42Rick’s funeral had been desolate, or maybe that was the burgeoning guilt she felt for having been unable to save her oldest friend. Gabriela stared up at the stormy sky. Clouds heavy with unreleased rain rolled over each other, parting to show streaks of sunshine and distant blue and then crashing together with ominous yet impotent ferocity. It hadn’t rained in months. Soon though, Gabriela knew, by Christmas …
Anthony stood behind her, shoulder rubbing against Gabriela’s as if to offer succour, or at least keep her upright. She’d foregone the hospital prescribed crutches in favour of a walking-stick and had yet to perfect the balancing act the change required. Gabriela tried not to lean too much on the shorter man. After all, Anthony too was convalescing.
Annie hovered nearby wanting
