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“Nothing. She’s still alive and still hates me.”

Zoë gave a low whistle. “You’ve put up with that battle-axe for your entire life?”

“Yes,” Faith said, but she gave a little smile. “But I hit her. I hit her hard.”

“With what?” Amy asked. “Some information?”

“No,” Faith said, smiling broader. “At Eddie’s funeral I hit her in the face with my fists, first a right, then a left. Pow, pow! It was wonderful. Of course I was hauled away and spent a night in the local jail, but I still remember it as one of the high points of my life.”

“Too bad you didn’t do that before you married Eddie,” Zoë murmured.

“But you loved Eddie,” Amy said. “I can understand a lot of what you did because, in spite of everything, you loved him.”

“You really are a romantic, aren’t you?” Faith said.

“If I had her husband I’d be a romantic too.” Zoë turned the sketch pad around and showed them her drawing of Stephen. If it was possible, she’d made him look better than he did in real life. Since the drawing was black-and-white, you couldn’t see his blond hair. Zoë had portrayed him as having dark hair and eyes, and his eyebrows were arched in a way that said he was used to getting what he wanted.

“My goodness,” Faith said, eyes wide.

Amy reached out and took the pad from Zoë. “I think I might have to fly home tonight,” she said, looking at the picture.

“Can I go with you?” Zoë asked. There was such sincerity, such lust, in her voice that the three of them laughed.

“May I buy this from you?” Amy asked, holding on to the pad as though her life depended on it.

“No, but you can have it.”

“You can’t—” Amy began, but stopped herself. “Thank you. Thank you very much. I’ll owe you for this.” Reluctantly, she handed the drawing pad back to her.

Faith gave a yawn. “I don’t know about you two, but I need to go to bed. This has been a four-hour therapy session.”

“Won’t Jeanne be proud of us?” Zoë said as she put away her drawing supplies.

“Oh yes, speaking of her,” Faith said as she got up, “did either of you receive any business cards today?”

 

; “Business cards?” Amy asked as though she had no idea what they were.

“Not me,” Zoë said. “I didn’t buy anything except lunch and no one gave me any business cards.”

“Why do you want to know?” Amy asked.

“I talked to Jeanne yesterday and she said we were to take all business cards that were offered to us. She seemed to think it was important.”

Amy looked at Zoë and they shrugged. “Sorry, can’t help,” Amy said. “We’ll go out tomorrow and see what we can find. Maybe she collects business cards.”

“Nah,” Zoë said. “She probably has a crazy patient who uses them for—”

“Building model houses,” Amy said quickly before Zoë could come up with some disgusting use for the cards.

“Sure,” Zoë said. “I’m off to bed. You want the bathroom first?” she asked Faith.

“I’d like to take a shower, if you don’t mind.”

“Ha!” Zoë said. “You’d like to spend an hour in the tub. I saw those jars of smelly stuff you bought.”

“That takes too long,” Faith said. “I’ll just shower and—”

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