Aunt Clara finally stabilized late that evening.
By the time we were discharged from Willowcrest Medical Center, neither Mason nor I could handle a two-hour drive anymore.
The next morning we returned to Lake Evermere.
The moment I arrived at the gate, I knew something was wrong.
One of Grandma’s handmade cushions lay face down next to the driveway.
It had rained last night.
The fabric was soaked.
Then I looked past it.
And then it stopped.
THE GARDEN
The grass was covered with plastic cups.
There were empty champagne bottles by the quay.
Confetti stuck to the wet lawn and floated along the bank.
Deep grooves ran straight through the garden, where heavy furniture had been dragged towards the lake.
The veranda was covered with mud.
