“Have we… Eileen?” her mother suddenly said, sending a wave of relief through Eileen so powerful it nearly brought her to tears.

“Yes, Mom,” she answered, coming into the room. She bent down and hugged her mother, who was still sitting in her chair. “Hello. I’ve missed you.”

When she pulled away and looked into her mother’s eyes, she was struck by how similar her expression was to her own children when they were much, much younger than they were now. What was it? A wide-eyed innocence? A not-yet knowing? Or in her mother’s case, an absence of life’s worry and pressure simply because they’d fallen away with the memories of most of her life experiences?

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” her mother said, patting Eileen’s hand between her own. She looked around Eileen and toward the door. “Has Clare come with you? If I’d known you girls were coming, I’d have made some dinner.” She looked questioningly around the room, as if wondering what she had on hand that she could offer, her expression darkening when she seemed to realize she was not where she thought she should be.

“That’s all right, Mom. I’m not hungry anyway.”

Eileen pulled up a chair next to her mother and took her hand. She was smaller, but she was obviously as healthy as could be expected and actually now had a sort of glow about her that Eileen couldn’t remember her hard-edged cop mother ever possessing. This place, all Clare’s money, was doing a good job of taking care of Ella. Eileen didn’t like to think about where she would have probably ended up if she and Eric had had to make the payments every month. For sure there would have been no saltwater pools and personal care assistants. Her mother plastered a smile on her face and stared at Eileen. She may have recognized her own daughter, eventually anyway, but she still had huge holes and questions about who, when, and even what the hell was going on at all times. The smiles were a cover—smiles and waiting for other people to say things that provided her context clues. Ella had been doing that act for years before she and Clare had any real idea that something more serious was going on with their once-sharp mother.

Eileen took a deep breath and regretted the decision to not have a therapist in the room. “Mom, I need to tell you something. Something that is going to upset you.”

Ella dropped her smile, her features morphing into an expression of grave seriousness. “Whatever it is, sweetheart, you can tell me anything. Mothers are—well, the good ones anyway—always there for their children, no matter what they’ve done.”

Speechless and completely unsure of how to move forward, Eileen stared into her mother’s forgiving expression.