“It has everything to do with ours,” Richard said.

I grabbed a handful of the thin cotton sheet and squeezed my fingers tight.

The plastic mattress cover crinkled loudly under the sudden pressure of my fist.

“You’re talking about your own daughter,” Dr.

Grant said.

“I’m talking about financial reality,” Richard said.

Linda stood completely still beside the narrow window overlooking the parking lot.

She smoothed the front of her tailored silk blouse with both hands, pressing the fabric perfectly flat.