I know I have to stop saying "where has this year gone?" Time has sped up, the years feel as though they are evaporating and I seem to be standing on the sidelines with my mouth open asking what happened to the month before or six months before or the year(s) before. Is it just me or are we living at warp-speed? And where has this year gone!?
She took 280 from the San Francisco airport toward Los Lumbres. So much had changed in the five years that she'd been in hiding -- traffic was heavier, more houses dotted the foothills, but the mountains that separating the valley from the ocean remained green and solid. The fog from Half Moon Bay flowed over the top like thick foam.
The closer she got to the turn off to Los Lumbres, the more Lauren questioned if coming alone was a good idea. Maybe she should have called her Uncle Bernie, or hired a body guard, or stayed at a hotel. She could always turn back. She drove on toward the estate -- in for a penny, in for a pound, as her grandmother used to say.