Aunt Sara had long gray hair that trailed all the way down her back. But those soft green eyes that matched my mother’s were patient and kind; she had that lit-from-within glow I recognized and remembered, from somewhere dark and dusty in my brain…

That day in court when she’d shown up like my last saving grace in a moment of desperation—I’d never forget it. Her eyes, so much like my mother’s, had given me a small sense of ease.

“It’s me. So nice to see you again, Aunt Sara.” Like the driver, I felt a strange urge to take a bow or offer a curtsy. She was wearing a thin white dress and leather sandals, perfectly matched for the sticky heat of early August.

“Come here, little one.”

Sara opened her arms and, surprising myself, I let her wrap me into a tight hug. It had been so long since I’d touched another person; there were strict no-contact rules in rehab between patients and staff, as well as between residents.

Aunt Sara felt light and bony in my arms, and for a moment, it reminded me … it reminded me of Finn at the end, when he lost so much weight because of the drugs. His collarbones sharp as daggers, his once soft belly concave. Ripples of his rib bones poking me through the sheets…

Shivering, I stepped back from my aunt and grimaced as I shook off memories of Finn’s final days. “Where’s Gemma?”

A strange look flickered over Sara’s face, but, in a flash, it was gone. She smiled, her big perfect teeth reminding me of my mother again.

“We just got back from having ice cream in town. I had no idea you’d be here so early.”

I glanced at my watch. It was nearly five, making me a half hour late. For a moment, I wondered if we were in different time zones, and I’d made a mistake… I’ll have to check the clocks inside later, adjust my watch, I decided.

I looked around the yard, and behind Sara, eager to see my daughter. Ninety days isn’t that long, but it’s an eternity when it comes to the ones you love. And, in those long months, I knew a lot could change with a seven-year-old.

“Oh, she’s gone inside with Francis and little Susie. They went through the front door. They’re so hyper from all the sugar and excited about their playdate.”

Playdate?

“Aww, how sweet,” I murmured. I’d waited so long to see Gemma; I couldn’t wait a second more. I started walking toward the front of the house and Sara fell in step beside me.

“Susie is Merrill’s daughter,” she explained. “They’re close to the same age. I thought it would be nice for Gemma to make a few family friends while she’s here.”

“How nice,” I said. “Who’s Merrill again?”