Chapter 9: The Lilies

They had moved my mother out of the ICU and into a quiet room on the fourth floor.

She lay propped on two pillows with her good hand on the blanket.

Her eyes were clear.

"Mom," I said, and I sat on the edge of the bed. "It's me. You scared me."

Her lips moved.

Three years of silence, and her mouth shaped the start of a sound.

The nurse in the doorway pressed both hands to her chest.

"Try again, Mom," I whispered. "Take your time."

A long, cracked breath came out of her.

It was not a word yet, but it was close.

I laughed and cried at once.

Stellan had followed me up and stood in the doorway.

He kept his place there, out of the way, and said nothing.

"I'm here," I told her. "Nobody's moving you again. I swear."

Her hand turned over under mine.

Then a woman's heels clicked on the corridor floor.

"Claire, dear."

I knew that voice before I looked up.

Veronica Keswick stood in the doorway in a gray wool coat and pearls, with a bouquet of white lilies in her arms.

She had never once walked into this wing.

"The hospital called the house," she said, softly. "They said your mother was unwell. I came straight away."

"The hospital called you," I said, "because your company froze her account."

She smiled with great patience. "These things get tangled, dear. Carlton is young. He loses his temper."

She stepped past me toward the bed.

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