“Once we’re back in Mom’s room, she spends the first several minutes chewing me out for not telling her everything from the beginning. At first she seems reluctant to really let me have it in front of Trey, but that fades quickly. When she has completely and rather embarrassingly vented, she demands the full story. Then she cross-examines me, and I have to tell it again. I feel like I’m back in Georgia, being grilled by Deputy Beebe. The clouds above the river are streaks of pink and purple by t...he time the interrogation is over. I don’t know if Mom ran out of things to ask or is just exhausted, like me. Even Trey looks tired, and he’s been on the periphery of the storm. Mom leans back against the headboard of the bed nearest to the wall and closes her eyes. I’m lying across the other bed, facing her. Trey sits next to me, holding the soda we’ve been sharing. After a few minutes of silence, I say, “You can’t stay here, Mom. Prudence is dangerous. I know you’re worried about her.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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