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foot of the steps that led to the wide front porch. But as his wife and children piled out into the late-morning sunshine to stretch after the long ride, he stayed behind the wheel, his eyes fixed on the building almost as if he expected some danger suddenly to manifest itself.
    Janet glanced nervously at the kids. "She's a harmless old lady, Ted," she said quietly. "And she's dying. It's not going to hurt you to say goodbye to her."
    Ted's eyes narrowed, but he finally got out of the car.
    Together, the family mounted the steps, crossed the porch, and pushed through the front door.
    Inside, they found a comfortable reception area, with several chintz-covered, overstuffed chairs arranged around a large coffee table. A gray-haired woman wearing a pale blue dress-and a small white badge that identified her as Beatrice LeBecque-looked up from a computer terminal, her smile of welcome fading into an expression of sympathy as she recognized Ted and Janet Conway. "I'm so glad you were able to come," she said. "I think Mrs. Conway's been waiting for you."
    "She didn't even know-" Ted began.
    "She's awake?" Janet quickly asked, deliberately cutting Ted off, her glance darting warningly toward Jared and Kim.
    "I believe so," the receptionist replied. She pointed toward a set of double doors at the far end of the reception area that led to one of the two wings. "The third room on the right, in East Two."
    "Can the children wait here?" Janet asked.
    "Of course," Beatrice LeBecque replied. "But if the two older ones want to see their aunt, I can look after the little one." Producing a bright red lollipop from the center drawer of her desk, she held it out toward Molly. "Look what I've got for you."
    Molly immediately squirmed to be set free from her mother's arms, and Janet lowered her to the floor. In an instant she was around the end of the desk and climbing up into Bea LeBecque's lap. "I think we'll get along just fine." Bea smiled. "I like to think children like me, though I suspect it's more the lollipops."
    As her youngest daughter picked at the wrapper of the lollipop, Janet turned to the older children. "Why don't you wait here until we find out if she's well enough to see you."
    As their parents disappeared behind the double doors to East Two, Kim and Jared looked at each other.
    None of it was anything like what they'd expected.
    Not the town.
    Not the sanatorium.
    Once again the same thought occurred to both of them at the same time, and as always, both of them knew it. As if by some kind of silent communion, it was agreed that Jared would voice the question.
    "Our aunt Cora…" he began uncertainly. "We've never met her, but we've heard-" He hesitated, but the words his father had invariably used finally fell from his lips. "Is she really crazy?"
    Bea LeBecque stopped her gentle bouncing of Molly, and the little girl cocked her head, peering up into Bea's face as if she, too, were waiting to hear the answer to her big brother's question.
    "She's very old," the receptionist finally replied. "And she's been very alone. But is she crazy?" She fell silent for a long moment, then her head moved in a slow nod. "Now that I think about it," she said softly, "I hope she is." She was silent again, then: "For her sake, I hope she is."
     
    Janet laid a hand on Ted's arm just as he was about to open the door to his aunt's room. When he turned to look at her, she could still see the hangover in his eyes, but today the toll of his drinking appeared even greater than usual: the sharp planes of his cheeks and chin were blurring, and a network of veins was appearing on his nose. But more than that, there was an underlying anger in the grim set of his features that Janet hadn't seen before.
    Or, more than likely, she thought, hadn't let herself see. But of course, she knew in her heart that the anger had been there for a long time. It wasn't as if Ted had tried to hide it. He'd even used it as an excuse for his drinking, shifting responsibility