“No. How can you say that? Eddie’s dead. He was so sweet, so small and sweet, and now he’s gone. Nothing will be fine again.”
“Very soon you’ll feel better,” Loman assured her. “Before you know it the hurt will be gone. It won’t matter as much as it does now. I promise it won’t.”
She blinked and stared at him as if he were talking nonsense, but then she did not know what was about to happen to her. Worthy slipped the needle into her arm.
She twitched.
The golden fluid flowed out of the syringe, into her bloodstream.
She closed her eyes and began to cry softly again, not at the pain of the needle but at the loss of her son.
Maybe it is better not to care so much, not to love so much, Loman thought.
The syringe was empty.
Worthy withdrew the needle from her vein.
Again Loman met the
