She Paid a Stranded Biker’s Gas, and Three Days Later Everything Changed

A hard one.

A fragile one.

But home.

“You’re late,” Miss Edna said, though gently.

“Gas station.”

“That explains the look.”

Alicia set the flyers down on the table.

“They’re not taking,” she said. “I handed out twenty-six. I think three people actually read them. One folded one into a coffee coaster while I was still talking.”

Miss Edna made a face that said continue reading …