“It’s seventy degrees,” Michelle said, surprised. “I can’t keep it higher or we couldn’t afford the gas bill.” She paid the bills with money that was grudgingly supplied by Roberta from the joint bank account she’d had with Michelle’s father. Roberta hadn’t lifted a finger to pay a bill since Alan had died.

“Well, it’s still hot!” came the agitated reply. She got up from the table. “I’m going outside. I can’t breathe in here.”

Michelle watched her go with open curiosity. Odd. Roberta seemed out of breath and flushed more and more lately. She had episodes of shaking that seemed very unusual. She acted drunk sometimes, but Michelle knew she wasn’t drinking. There was no liquor in the house. It probably was the flu. She couldn’t understand why a person who was obviously sick wouldn’t just go to the doctor in the first—

There was a loud thud from the general direction of the front porch.

Chapter 4

Michelle got up from her chair and went out onto the porch. It sounded as if Roberta had flung a chair against the wall, maybe in another outburst of temper.

She opened the door and stopped. Roberta was lying there, on her back on the porch, gasping for breath, her eyes wide, her face horrified.

“It’s all right, I’ll call 911!” She ran for the phone and took it outside with her while she pushed in the emergency services number.

Roberta was grimacing. “The pain!” she groaned. “Hurts...so...bad! Michelle...!”

Roberta held out her hand. Michelle took it, held it, squeezed it comfortingly.

“Jacobs County 911 Center,” came a gentle voice on the line. “Is this an emergency?”

“Yes. This is Michelle Godfrey. My stepmother is complaining of chest pain. She’s short of breath and barely conscious.”

“We’ll get someone right out there. Stay on the line.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Help me,” Roberta sobbed.

Michelle’s hand closed tighter around her stepmother’s. “The EMTs are on the way,” she said gently. “It will be all right.”

“Bert,” Roberta choked. “Damn Bert! It’s...his...fault!”

“Please don’t try to get up,” Michelle said, holding the older woman down. “Lie still.”

“I’ll...kill him,” Roberta choked. “I’ll kill him...!”

“Roberta, lie still,” Michelle said firmly.

“Oh, God, it hurts!” Roberta sobbed. “My chest...my chest...!”

Sirens were becoming noticeable in the distance.

“They’re almost there, dear,” the operator said gently. “Just a few more minutes.”

“Yes, I hear them,” Michelle said. “She says her chest hurts.”

There was muffled conversation in the background, on the phone.

Around the curve, the ambulance shot toward her leaving a wash of dust behind it. Roberta’s grip on Michelle’s hand was painful.