She had a jumble of thoughts going through her mind, things that confused her and things that made her heart ache. It had been hours since she’d gotten up and started hunting through the files. But now her stomach grumbled. It was midmorning and she’d finished the last of her supplies—the granola bars, crackers and candy that she kept in her room along with packets of instant coffee. The coffee she brewed on a hot plate on her dresser. As soon as she’d ducked inside the general store, she spotted the old man who seemed to own the place. Oscar Ortega, a balding man in his early seventies, was intently polishing a display of snow globes on a glass case near the window. He looked up as soon as the door opened. “Well, good morning, missy. It’s a great day,” he said, the same greeting he’d used every time she’d visited. ”Good morning,” Faith had replied and picked up an empty shopping basket, walking back to the grocery area.
