The Emperor is dead.
Gavin had already called Sophia and left a message on her answering machine: he couldn’t come over tomorrow night after she got back from Momeyer, too far to walk and the no-travel-by-car curfew was six P.M. He would see her Tuesday. Lunch, at the Coffee Shop? Then he had unplugged the phone and watched the news. All that was left was to think about his mother. Not that he could have avoided it; the need was persistent, heavy, and pressing since he had driven away.
Gavin got up from the couch in his den and started straightening up: fluffing pillows, stacking books and papers strewn across the coffee table, collecting a coffee cup, spoon and an empty sugar substitute packet. Mama, why did you do it? You knew how much I loved Jason. You knew. You knew how much his dea
