8
PALM SPRINGS, 2013
Clara sat in the hallway outside her mother’s bedroom. She could hear Carol weeping somewhere down the hall. Dr. Matthews stepped into the hallway and stopped by Clara’s chair. She gripped the mahogany arms convulsively. Her face was a blank mask.
“I’m sorry, Clara.”
She forced herself to meet his gaze. She could see his concern, and that it was a professional reaction, a part of his job. Still, it was the only genuine sympathy she was likely to receive. She took the hand he offered, grateful for his kindness.
“Thank you, Doctor.”
The older man moved off down the hall, his footsteps whispers on the deep carpet. Clara watched his retreat and heard a new sound, the sound of Darren’s thoughts as he stepped out of her mother’s bedroom.
She turned to look at her moth
