“Naomi?”
Her face changed instantly.
Not joy.
Not relief.
Fear.
Pure fear.
She stepped backward so quickly that her shoulder hit the shed.
Her hands flew to the scarf around her head.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
I crossed the yard.
“Naomi, what happened?”
She shook her head.
“Caleb, you weren’t supposed to be home.”
That sentence frightened me more than anything else.
I reached toward her carefully.
She looked toward the kitchen before looking back at me.
“Please,” she whispered. “Not out here.”
Before I could answer, the back door opened.
My mother appeared.
She looked nothing like someone who had been struggling financially.
Her hair was freshly styled.
