23 WinnieWinnie glanced at the mirror. Her reflection had gone all blurry.
She dropped her shears on the countertop. Fumbled a tissue from the box and dabbed at her eyes.
She heard a plastic cape rustle.
Felt cool fingers on her forearm.
“We’ll stop,” Channing said softly. “I’m sorry I made you cry.”
“That’s the hormones again.” Winnie blew her nose.
“I get weepy when I first say her name,” she added. “But it’s good for me to talk out what happened.”
“Are you sure you’re okay doing that today?” Channing asked.
“I think I can.”
Winnie tossed the tissue into the wastebasket. “You’re interested because the medical examiner decided that Emily died from SIDS?”
Channing nodded. “I’m reviewing a request for assistance from a woman who checked on her son and found he wasn’t breathing. Sh
