Evelyn thought of all her finished tasks—the pug who finally learned to sit, the bookshelf that never wobbled, the bread maker that baked a perfect sourdough. Those tasks had endings. This one had a beginning.
She pressed it onto the girl’s palm.
She almost pressed N. But her thumb hovered over Y. taskerlppsa
Evelyn’s breath caught. The job wasn’t to retrieve the girl. The job was to become the tasker for the tasker. Evelyn thought of all her finished tasks—the pug