Arnold you s**t how could you leave me? We’re alone, me and Thomas are alone and he misses you, he’s going crazy missing you, he can’t control how it’s ripping him up! Your dying hurt our son and I would murder you myself for what you’re doing to him, murder you over again, better than a lousy car crash ever could. They gave me valium at the hospital, out of sympathy for the poor pathetic widow, but I won’t d**g myself. I’ll feel the pain. You used to say I was tough. Well I am tougher than you ever knew! But our Tommy is crumbling.
Pages crinkled under their fingers. There were long descriptions of beehives, garden plans complete with schematic drawings and rants about members of Marjorie’s family. They scanned for the capital T for Thomas, reading passages about him as they found them.
