Verna shook her head despairingly. In the probate office where she worked, she heard hard-luck stories like this every day, a lot of them involving the Darling Savings and Trust. Once one of the most respected men in Darling, Mr. George E. Picket Johnson, was well on the way to becoming the most hated—especially since it had been revealed, just a few months before, that he had made unsecured loans to Mrs. Johnson’s father and brother, prompting the bank examiner to put the Savings and Trust on the “troubled banks” list. The family loans had been repaid and the bank was back on solid footing, but people in town still suspected him of playing fast and loose with their money.

“What’s your mother going to do?” Verna asked. To the south, over the trees, lightning flashed again.

“What do you think?” Liz asked helplessly. She was crying now, twin rivulets of tears streaking her cheeks. “She intends to move in with me, naturally! But just until I marry Grady, of course.” She gulped back a sob and her voice became bitter. “After that, she has the idea that I will go live with him and she can stay in my beautiful little house forever—without paying any rent, of course, since she doesn’t have any money. And where she’s going to get the money for groceries and the doctor, I don’t know. Or even to keep on paying Sally-Lou the pittance she pays her now.”

Verna put her arm around her friend’s shoulders. “I am so sorry, Liz,” she said sympathetically, and then became practical. “But you and I both know that you can’t live with your mother again. Not now. Not after you’ve had your own place.”

She might well have added, “Not after you have declared your personal independence,” but she didn’t. Verna knew very well how much courage and hard-won maturity it had taken for Liz to escape from her domineering mother’s control. And she also knew that Liz hadn’t escaped very far. Not far enough, probably—just across the street. She thought fleetingly of Bessie’s fiancé. Poor Bessie was probably right. He had fled Darling to escape from his sister.

“You’re right,” Liz said fiercely. “I can’t live with her again. But I can’t allow her to be put out onto the street, can I?” She wiped her eyes. “I’m going to talk to Mr. Johnson tomorrow. Maybe I can get him to put off the foreclosure until I can figure out what to do.”

Verna was silent for a moment, thinking what to say and how to say it. She wasn’t excited at the thought of having a roommate, even a temporary one. But she knew what a calamity it would be for Liz if she had to live with her mother again.