Windfall
by Barbara Avon
His shadow crossed her frail body like some menacing presence as he stood. He leaned over her, brushing her thinning hair from her face, and kissed her forehead, trying to reach her beautiful mind. "I'll be right back," he whispered in her ear. "I'm going to the store, but it will only take me a minute, okay?" In 1982, John Armstrong walks into...