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She sat in a rocker upholstered in horsehair, frayed and shiny, picking at the fabric on the arms of the chair She looked awful The skin on her face had been blanched by Olive’s death and her cheeks were mottled with liver spots and threaded with visible capillaries She looked as though she’d lost weight in the last few days, the flesh hanging in pleats along her upper ar lesson in anato process sud-denly as visible as in tihed doith some as yet unidentified emotion that left her eyes red-rimmed and lusterless I didn’t think she’d survive it, whatever it was

She had clumped her way back to her room with the aid of her walker, which she kept close to her, holding on to it with one tre hand

I sat in a hard-backed chair near hers,on, don’t you?" I said

"I think so I should have spoken up sooner, but I so hoped ht we’d bur-ied the past I thought we’d moved on, but we haven’t There’s so much shame in the world as it is Why add to it?" Her voice quavered and her lips tre with some inner adain"

"You have to, Helen People are dying"

For a moment, her dark eyes sparked to life "I know that," she snapped The energy was short-lived, aout "You do the best you can," she went on "You try to do what’s right Things happen and you salvage what’s left"

"Nobody’s bla you"

"I bla theI knew the connection, but I didn’t want to believe it, fool that I am"

"Is this related to Woody?"

She shook her head

"Who then?"