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her back as he patted her, and he whispered something in her ear, but none of it made any sense; his voice was nothing but a high, winding cicada-like buzz.
    “Oh, Jesus, Harry! That’s it! That’s it !” she whispered through her teeth as though in great pain. She tried to keep her voice low and steady, but she was afraid that every person in the room had seen her double over and was now craning forward, trying to hear what she had to say.
    “The suitcases!”
    “What—?” Harry said.
    “She had suitcases… packed… ready to go!”
    Cindy knew that she wasn’t moving, but she still felt as though she was falling forward in a long, slow tumbling roll. Harry—or someone—was tugging on her arm, trying to get her to sit up straight in her chair, but she couldn’t tell which direction was up. The room was a crazy, spinning smear of colors, sounds, and smells. For a moment, she imagined that she was sitting—no, she was lying down—no, she was rolling over and over in a field of flowers. The heavy-scented air and the hammering heat of the sun were pressing her down, squashing her, strangling her. Her throat felt as if it were coated with thick, yellow pollen that was congealing into thick clots that eventually— soon! -would seal off her lungs.
    Suitcases!
    The single word pulsated in her mind like a strobe light.
    Suitcases… suitcases… suitcases…
    She had no idea if she was repeating the word out loud or not. There was absolutely no feeling in her body, and what was left of her mind was swirling like sand in a hot wind. A solid, pulsating darkness had begun to nibble at the edges of her awareness, and it grew stronger with each repetition of the word.
    Suitcases… suitcases… suitcases…
    And then, with a hollow concussion that sounded like a cannon going off inside her head, the light winked out, and the darkness dragged her down… all the way down.
     
    2
     
    That son of a bitch couldn’t even bother to show up just to be here for me!
    Cindy arrived at Roy Krendall’s law office, Alex’s and Debbie’s lawyer, precisely at two o’clock for the reading of her sister’s will. She was right on time and was disappointed to be informed by Roy’s secretary that the lawyer had been delayed in court and would be along in ten or fifteen minutes.
    Cindy took a deep breath as she seated herself on the couch in the alcove opposite the secretary’s desk. She dreaded the thought that Alex might show up on time and that they would have to wait here in this small room together. There was no way she wanted even to see him—her sister’s murderer!—much less try to make small talk with him. Over the past week, she’d been seething with rage. More times than she could count, Cindy had found herself fantasizing about actually maiming or killing that man. Her sister’s murderer.
    Cindy knew that Debbie had drawn up her own will; in fact, she had done it at Cindy’s insistence several months ago, following a nasty argument with Alex that had left Debbie with several bruises on her arms and back. Cindy didn’t know the contents of the will. She had been content knowing her sister had done something to protect herself, but she couldn’t help but wonder if its existence was a surprise to Alex and how he would react to its contents.
    Cindy’s mind turned to her own husband. He hadn’t even come to the lawyer’s office with her. He’d claimed he was short-handed at the hardware store and would have to stay there all afternoon to cover the register.
    But damn him! The least he could’ve done was take an hour off to meet me here… just to help me get through this!
    It had been a week since her sister’s funeral, and Cindy still wasn’t coping very well. Sleepless nights and long days, dragging herself through work at the bank had started to take their toll. She wasn’t eating right, either, and was losing weight. For days now, her eyes had been burning and bloodshot, no matter how much Visine she used.