He was already at the kitchen table, forcing down the bran cereal he knew was good for him and smelling of the new after-shave Mom had bought him for Christmas but which he’d found before she could hide it. The morning’s news was banal: a traffic jam on the Cabin River bridge, a minor fender bender near the mall. No murders or dead bodies, but Rose couldn’t shake her gloom. Before the morning was over, she’d snapped at Grace ten times. As always, Grace took it in stride.

“Something’s bothering you, Rose. Want to find a quiet place to talk about it at lunch?”

“What, and give up seeing Gregory?” Rose snapped.

“Sure. What’s the matter with you?”

None of your business! Rose wanted to yell. Instead, she walked away, not trusting herself to speak.

Grace called after her. “See how you feel at lunch. Remember, nothing’s that bad.”

Oh sure, it’s all sweetness and light with you, isn’t it? Rose thought. Suddenly she found Grace’s goodwill too cloying.

But bad dreams eventually became diluted with the sun. The idea of messages from the dead kept ebbing, finally reduced to only a periodic twinge. Life went on as usual. Gregory and Company got too rowdy in the cafeteria, throwing food, and were given detention. Rose couldn’t believe that Daniel had been a part of it, but he caught her eye and winked as he shuffled off with the rest of them in mock obedience. Rose felt her face get hot, and she couldn’t bring herself to wink back.

By the end of the day she felt normal again.

“I apologize,” she told Grace on the bus. “I’m sorry I was such a grump.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Grace said, but Rose knew she was waiting expectantly to hear why.

“No sleep or something.”

Grace nodded. “It’s hard to sleep when you have things on your mind,” she said invitingly.

“There’s nothing much on my mind,” Rose said, and Jerram guffawed from the seat behind.

Grace patted her arm in a motherly way. “You were treated badly, Rose. It’s natural to feel resentment.”

Rose groped around in her mind for what Grace meant. “You mean Detective O’Hara?”

“You were right and she was wrong,” Grace said. “You should be mad.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“Maybe you can sue.”