When My Key Wouldn’t Fit the Lock, I Knew Something Had Changed

I knew.

I texted Athena: It’s happening.

She filed within the hour.

Day three, I drove home. I pulled into the driveway at 1847 Sycamore Bend in the early evening, same duffel bag in the back seat, gas station coffee in the cupholder. I walked up the porch steps and put my key in the deadbolt.

Wrong teeth.

I called Mike. He answered on the second ring with continue reading …