Chapter Thirty-SixLong Island: Nineteen years ago
Sarah entered her mother's bedroom. Her father had his own room down the hall. Glen had once asked his father why he no longer slept with his mother as most married couples did. He said he snored too loud at night and kept her up. Sarah knew that was an excuse.
“You wanted me, Mother?” she asked, noting the large box on the bed and several items of clothing and papers strewn across it.
“I was tidying up, and I came across a few of your sketches. I don't want to throw them out unless you approve.” She held out two drawings Sarah recalled she'd done at Sea Scope the year before when Aunt Julie allowed her to work in her attic studio.
“Where did you find these?” Sarah took the sketches from her mother's outstretched hands. One was of Ms. W
