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For a child who’d lived less than three years, Lucy had been photographeddoll, the hands-down family favorite Like a painter’s dream, she had enor, golden curls

Brooke’s chest ached as she turned pages She’d loved her baby-doll sister with all the passion an eight year old could muster But she’d been jealous, too For six years, she’d been the baby until Lucy had co

There was Dad giving Lucy a piggyback ride A water-splashed Mo to catch Lucy as she toddled her first steps

A Christ, happy faht here in this rooifts Brooke remembered that Christone to Denver to have a group portrait made Mom had sent out dozens of ee Jr, Marion and faraph

There had been happiness in this hoes

The last book, though, was different Life had changed Lucy was gone As Brooke turned the pages, she didn’t find one photo of her parents She knehy, of course The fae Jr’s holow

Rationally, Brooke knew Lucy’s death was not her fault She’d been a child, too, but she could still hear her mother’s screams inside her head and her father’s furious demands to knohat had happened Why hadn’t Marion been with Lucy?

The ansas always the sa her

Brooke slammed the book closed and sat in thethat happened fifteen years ago

“Why, Lord? Why did it happen? Why can’t I move on?”

The old house echoed once and then fell silent again

She’d ask the questions before and gotten the sa

Lonely, sad and full ofback into the armoire

What she needed was a good gy pool A dozen laps would shake off the melancholy

But there was no pool in Clayton and the only gyed to the school