CHAPTER 19Three Years Later
Sarah
Sarah awoke early one morning in May with a rock of anxiety in her belly. She immediately listened for her son’s cries, thinking it was he who had woken her. A week ago, she had been up several times a night, trying to soothe the cough that had wracked his small lungs and kept her constantly on edge. Now she listened hard but heard only the rush of air from the air-conditioning vent above her. Then the thermostat clicked off, the fan stopped, and from behind the closed windows came the muted calls of sparrows from a tree out in the yard.
Around the edges of the blinds, the morning light was bright. A jolt of nerves shot through her. Immediately, her eyes sought out the clock on her bedside table: it was not yet six. Letting out her breath, she closed he
