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... ench in the yard, staring up into the sky.
The baker’s hair had turned grey overnight, and he’d aged ten more years. Instead of the energetic man he’d been a day ago, Huckle now looked dead inside. It wasn’t until Roy had approached him that he’d snapped out of it. “You’re here, Mr. Roy.” His voice was nothing but a whisper. “Give me a minute. Your reward’s inside.”
“I’m not in a hurry.” Roy followed him into the kitchen. He saw a “closed” sign sitting on the doorstep, but Huckle did ...
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