GENRE: Adult SECRET
Lang leaned on the shovel and tried to slow her breath.
She should be packing for their celebratory trip for her one-year remission, not trying to divide a wayward clump of Lenten roses. Jack could easily dig up the stubborn plant when he got home. But he’d been doing her biding all year, and she was tired of asking.
The spot right above her left temple itched, and she snatched the brim of her white floppy hat and flung it to the ground. There was no one nearby to see her scalp, but she looked around furtively anyway, just in case. The bristle of new growth on her head had eased into something besides baldness—not quite hair, but not prickly, either. She rubbed her palm over her scalp, feeling the knobs and hollows she’d never known existed when she had hair.