The Handyman
Becky’s Repairs, Part 6 Blinding light streamed into the window through the gauzy fabric. A pair of nesting jackdaws just outside annoyingly announced the sun had indeed come up. Becky blearily rubbed her eyes, rudely bumping the handcuffs against her cheek, making her flinch. She groaned and took a quick peek at her phone before fumbling around the nightstand to find the key, rubbing her wrists on the way to the bathroom. “Maybe they chickened out. Maybe one of them had second thoughts,” she thought as she brushed her teeth. Becky halted wide eyed, staring at her reflection. “Maybe they got caught! Maybe… Maybe something went wrong! No. No, Justin would have called… probably…” The notions gnawed at her despite her dismissals. Dressed in slacks and a sweater, Becky headed down to the lobby for coffee and a croissant. The landlady briskly handed her some cream, her husband nowhere to be seen. Becky sat in a corner, pretending to peruse the local paper and nibble the pastry while her curiosity slowly grew. Finally, she huffed and headed back to her room. ...