“It was only a brief lightheadedness,” I whispered, holding onto her shoulder until the doorway stopped swaying.

Daniel came back through the swinging doors with a damp folded towel, his steps silent on the Persian runner.

“She had the very same spell yesterday afternoon while she was watering the ferns.”

I looked at him as my vision slowly cleared.

“I did not water the ferns yesterday, Daniel.”

“You did, sweet girl,” he said, taking my wrist to feel my pulse.

“You forgot you left the hose running by the porch until the rosebed flooded.”

“The rosebed is completely dry,” Chloe said, staring directly at his fingers on my arm.

“I cleaned up the overflow myself before you arrived,” Daniel said smoothly, turning to lead me toward the sofa.

“Sit down before you drop.”

Chloe stayed another twenty minutes, standing by the front coat closet while she zipped her jacket.

“I don’t like how sluggish your eyes look, Aunt Margaret.”

“I am simply tired,” I said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Call me tomorrow morning at eight,” Chloe said, turning the brass door handle.