Chapter 19:

EMMA

"Well . . . this is better." Jenny stood in my sitting room with her hands on her hips, surveying the trailer. "I mean, with all due respect, it's probably not going to make the cover story of Home and Garden any time soon, but it's kind of cute, actually."

I flopped back into the comfy chair we'd found at the thrift store, kicking off my shoes. "It smells better. And it's clean. And . . ." I took a deep breath. "It's mine."

"It is, indeed." Jenny's tone left it up to interpretation as far as whether that was a good thing or a bad one. I understood her trepidation. While my little home-on-wheels was better than we'd found it, it was lit by a variety of gas lanterns (from the camping department at Walmart) and kerosene lamps (from the thrift store). My bedroom and sitting room walls were lined with jugs of water I'd bought for drinking, washing dishes . . . and showering.