“I’m sorry. I think you must have the wrong number.” I can’t be fucked being polite. I’m freezing and want to get on the road to my new job, ASAP. “Is your last known address 3488 Devil’s Peak Road, Miss Birch?” Why does that sound familiar? “In the town of Crimson Ridge?” The woman persists. My stomach hits the floor. “Uhh. No.” My insides flop like a fish on dry land as I picture Kayce and the ranch and him sitting on the porch with a beer when I last saw him over the summer. “Well, the information I have on file here says you have an outstanding amount of two thousand, five hundred and
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