By Labor Day, Doris has accumulated three more books in the same manner. Two more in the natural disaster series and one in the other series that Hugh had mentioned, The History of Civilization. The latter intrigued her; Hugh hadn’t mentioned that they came shrink wrapped. Whoever sent them hadn’t even bothered to remove it, which troubled her for some reason. The arrival of each book whittled away on her resolve to ignore the situation, almost as quickly as her sympathy for Hugh rose. She felt a kind of helpless dread by the last week in September and on the 30th, came to a conclusion. The damn books were going to drive her nuts. She’d better start figuring out who the hell was sending them.