He’d started at a thousand and was in the low two hundreds when he heard Amanda’s voice from somewhere inside the store. Or at least he thought it was Amanda’s voice. He’d never heard her sound so kind in his life. “I know, dear,” she said. “I’m sorry we have to keep you. We’re just going to leave you back here for a few minutes while I find someone to drive you home.” There was a low hum – a woman’s voice, frail and incoherent. By process of elimination, Will guessed Amanda was speaking to Samantha Lewis, a.k.a. Maw-Maw. Sure enough, a moment later, the old woman appeared in the office doorway. Amanda’s hand was cupped underneath her elbow, her arm wrapped around the woman’s waist as she helped her shuffle into the room. Amanda said, “Oh,” when she saw Will, as if she’d forgotten he was there. Will stood up, muscle memory compelling him to go to his feet when a woman entered. Amanda’s tone was more what he was used to when she directed, “Stay out in the hall, Mr.
