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“Alone again, with the house quiet around her, she thought not of Joan in her hospital gown but of Henry, the IVs taped to the bruised crook of his arm, how he'd asked her to take care of Arlene and not give up on their daughter Margaret, demands that even now seemed unfair, if not impossible. What would she ask, and of whom--God? There was no one else left.” — Stewart O'Nan
Alone again, with the house quiet around her, she thought not of Joan in her hospital gown but of Henry, the IVs taped to the bruised crook of his arm, how he'd asked her to take care of Arlene and not give up on their daughter Margaret, demands that even now seemed unfair, if not impossible. What would she ask, and of whom--God? There was no one else left.