Hell or High Water

Montana

Momma hadn’t been gone from the world for twenty-four hours before the first letter showed up. Blue paper, folded into an origami heart, left where the writer knew I’d find it. Dealing with my grief, I was able to put it out of my mind until the next one came, then the next. Each one more disturbing than the last. Until I woke up to find one beside me.
He’d watched me sleep.

Only desperation could drive me to ask the man who had fertilized my momma’s egg for help. I preferred to forget...