The late afternoon sun bathed the garden in a soft gold. The scent of damp soil and fresh leaves rose with every movement of Abigail’s hands. She crouched in the small patch her father had designated for herbs, tucking a young rosemary plant into the earth. Gardening had become her quiet escape since coming home. It was something simple and it took her mind off things.
She brushed the dirt from her palms and reached for the next seedling when a sudden thud broke the peace. It was followed by a muffled gasp and the sound of something or someone collapsing onto the gravel path.
Abigail’s head snapped up.
She quickly rose to her feet to check it out but her eyes widened when she saw an elderly woman, perhaps in her seventies, sitting on the ground with one leg awkwardly bent beneath her. A
