My Other Half
Now, with the storm raging, they had no choice.
Jack pulled off the highway at the next exit, a small sign pointing to a town called Pine Hollow.
The rain was a wall now, the jeep’s headlights barely cutting through it. They drove slowly, the road winding through trees, until they spotted a glowing sign: “Pine Hollow Bed and Breakfast”. It was a big old house, its porch lit with string lights, looking warm and inviting despite the storm.
“Let’s try here,” Jack said, parking close to the porch. “Stay put. I’ll check if they’ve got room.”
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