Chapter 4: A Mercy

I sat by my mother's bed until the window turned gray.

Her breathing got shallow around three.

The nurses moved the monitors closer and did not say anything to me, and I understood.

"Russell," she said at ten past five.

"I'm here, Mom."

"Eat something. You haven't eaten."

"I'm not hungry."

"You never were a good liar."

She almost laughed, and the monitor beside her went flat.

The nurse ran in.

I did not let go of her hand.

They worked for a long time, and then a doctor touched my shoulder and said the time out loud.

Five-twenty-one in the morning.

My mother, Frances Kemper, died holding the folder against her chest.

I sat there with her hand in both of mine and could not make a sound.

Nobody had ever prepared me for how quiet it would be.

At seven I heard heels in the corridor.

I knew the walk before she came through the door.

Allison stood in the doorway in last night's dress, with her coat over her arm and her hair coming loose.

She looked at the bed, and then at me.

"Kayla called me," she said. "I came as soon as I saw."

I did not stand up.

She walked in and set a white envelope on the tray table by the water cup.

"It's a certified check for $150,000," she said. "I had my bank open it early. The deposit is covered."

"The heart is gone," I said.

"What?"

"She opted out at two in the morning. They gave it to someone else."

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