Seven Years After My Daughter’s Funeral, I Followed Her Husband to a Rehabilitation Center—And Saw a Woman I Thought Was Dead
Dr.
Foster lowered her voice.
“I don’t want to ask you to accept something before you have had a chance to see it.”
“Then show me.”
She looked toward a doorway at the end of the hall.
“Give me a moment.”
She stepped into a small office, made a telephone call, and returned after speaking quietly with someone inside.
“The woman has agreed to a brief visit,” she said.