The auctioneer barely looked up when he said, “Two hundred. Going once. Going twice.”
Ellie swallowed and lifted her hand.
“Sold.”
Just like that, she owned a condemned cabin she’d never seen.
Now, with the folded deed stuffed in her glove compartment and thirty-eight dollars left in her purse, she drove up a rutted gravel road following hand-painted arrows that said BELL CREEK. Roscoe whined with excitement. Ellie gripped the steering wheel harder.