The lounge television was on with the sound off, a weather map of Georgia shifting from blue to gray.

She sat.

I stayed on my feet.

“You look tired,” she said.

“I am tired.”

“Rosalie’s care is going to cost a great deal.

The reconstruction, the therapy afterward, the equipment they’ll want in the house.” She set her handbag on the table and squared it against the edge.

“I want to pay for all of it.