There is a moment of silence as Rose sinks down onto the running board, no longer able to stand.

“It wasn’t luck, was it?” Mel says shrewdly. “You were tracking my phone!” The affront in Mel’s voice makes Rose smile. Mel will be all right.

Nancy snorts, an action not in keeping with her appearance. “Flynn off half the time, Rose going off the deep end, Daniel being Daniel, I couldn’t think what else I could do.”

Lights and siren running, the first police car arrives. Moments later a second, and an ambulance, fill the long driveway with noise, red and blue streaks of color, and men and women in uniform bustling efficiently.

Rose drops her guard. Bonelessly, she slips from the running board to the ground.

CHAPTER 31

Rose wakes to the murmur of voices. She opens her eyes. A hospital room; a virulent sense of déjà vu sweeps over her. Has it all been a dream? Is she still in Longwood?

“Gigi?” Mel says her name.

Rose turns her head. In a single bed next to hers is her granddaughter. One leg is elevated, the foot in a cast. Mel is propped on pillows holding court. Around the foot of her bed stand her dad, Nancy, Daniel, Royal, his grandmother, and two people Rose assumes are medical professionals.

“Is this a dream?” Rose asks in a whisper.

“You always tell me life is a dream,” Mel teases.

“Yeah. It is. But is this a life dream or a dream dream?” Rose asks.

To the medical personnel, Mel says, “Gigi’s okay. She’s just being Buddhist.” To Rose she says, “This is real. You conked out, and they brought us here. You’ve been asleep for all night and this morning.”

One of the medical people says, “Mrs. Dennis, you’ve been diagnosed—”

Rose cuts her off. “Let Mel tell it. You might be imaginary. Or worse.”

Mel makes a face. “You’ve been diagnosed as suffering from malnutrition, severe exhaustion, dehydration, and muscle strain. They had to put thirteen stitches in your leg, and seven in your forearm where you cut yourself on the windshield of Granddad’s truck. You had a concussion … Is that had or has?” Mel asks the doctor.

“Let’s say ‘has’ to be on the safe side,” the woman answers. “Head injuries in the elderly—”

“Got it.” Rose cuts her off again. “Concussion.” The diagnosis of “elderly” is damning enough; she doesn’t want to know if she’s also been diagnosed with dementia. That’s a worm can she’s not ready to open. “I’m good,” she says firmly. “Are you okay, Mel?”

“She filled me in on what happened,” Flynn answers before Mel can. “She’s going to be fine.” In his tone Rose distinctly hears No thanks to you.