“Good for you,” said Lucy, finding it hard to swallow because of the lump in her throat. In truth, a giant lump seemed to be forming around her heart and it was pressing against her stomach, growing heavier with every mile that brought them closer to Red Top Hill. As they began the climb she came to a decision—she couldn’t take Tommy home without telling him what had happened.

“Girls, I’m going to drop you at our house. You can walk home from there, Sassie.”

Something in her tone brooked no protest and the girls got out meekly when she stopped at the end of the driveway. She turned to Tommy.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” she said. “I have some bad news. Very bad news.”

Tommy looked puzzled. What did this woman, practically a stranger, know about him?

“I went to your house today, to get your mother for the bake sale.”

He nodded. He knew all about the bake sale.

“When I got there she was…” Lucy’s voice failed her. “Not well,” she finally said.

“She said she thought she was coming down with a cold,” he said, looking concerned.

“It was worse than that.” Lucy put her hand on his. “She was dead.”

“Dead?” Tommy repeated the word, as if he didn’t know its meaning.

“I’m afraid so.” Lucy waited for his reaction, not knowing what to expect. Tears? Hysterics? Angry accusations? But nothing came. Tommy sat, hunched over, staring at his knee. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you,” she said, wondering if she’d made a big mistake. Maybe it would have been better for him to hear it from his father. But she didn’t know if his father was home, if anybody was home. She didn’t know what he was going to walk into and she wanted him to be prepared. Maybe the cops were still there, or a gaggle of relatives. “I just thought it would be better if you knew.”

“It’s okay,” he said, pulling his hand out from under hers. “I better get home.”

“I’ll drive you,” said Lucy. “It’s just around the corner.”

He didn’t protest so she made the short trip to Prudence Path, stopping in front of his house at the end of the cul-de-sac. “Uh, thanks for the ride,” he said, climbing out of the car.