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I didn’t feel the aio in like a soft bullet

The smashed flesh closed over the aiive his full attention to Inspector Beauvoir

Hazel Smyth had been off to the funeral hoo but in a voice so sulky Hazel decided she was better on her own True, a nuo, but Hazel didn’t like to bother the kidnapped and taken into a world of hushed words and sy she couldn’t yet believe had happened Instead of the Knitters Guidepoor Ai tea with Susan and hearing about her screwed-up kids, she was trying to word the obituary announcements

How to describe herself? Dear friend? Dear companion? Much missed by… Why were there no words that felt? Words that when you touched them you’d feel as intended? The chasm left by the loss of Madeleine? The lu asleep knowing that on waking she’d relive the loss, like Proed Even her graular

‘Mom,’ Sophie called from the kitchen ‘Mom, are you there? I need your help’

Hazel cahter, slowly at first then with increased speed as the words penetrated

I need your help

In the kitchen she found Sophie leaning against the counter, her foot raised and a pained expression on her face

‘What is it? What happened?’ Hazel bent to touch the foot but Sophie pulled it away

‘Don’t It hurts’

‘Here, sit down Let ed to coax Sophie over to the kitchen table and into a chair Hazel put a cushion on another chair and tenderly lifted her daughter’s leg so that it was resting on the chair and cushion

‘I twisted it in a pothole on the driveway How et those holes filled?’

‘I know, I’ your mail, and this happens’

‘Let an to explore the ankle

Tenroom, the television wand in her hand, a ham and cheese sandwich on a plate and a diet soda on a tray She’d bound Sophie’s sprained ankle in a tenser bandage and found a pair of old crutches frohter had hurt herself