35: Panic

‘A fine mother’. ‘A fine mother’. ‘A fine mother’.

The words echoed in marching cadence with Evelyn’s steps the entire walk back to her apartment building, ringing in her ears, overlaying themselves inside her shocked brain in a tangled cacophonous din.

“You have a fine evening.” The nightwatchman smiled, holding open the door for them, but Evelyn scarcely heard him.

Or the children’s happy chirps, “Thank you!”

“Thank you. I appreciate you looking after the safety of the tenants here.”

That Evelyn only heard because about the same time he said it, Andrew shifted their paper bag of groceries to his opposite arm and took her hand in his larger warm one.

Or maybe it wasn’t that she’d heard, but she absolutely felt it.

The enormous electric jolt that shot through her body at Andrew