The ledge there was narrow, but I gripped an ornamental angel thatafforded me just enough purchase to prevent my falling. The Blakehouse, a few blocks...away, remained quiet. Even as I clung to theconcrete decoration, I clung also to the dogged hope that I wasn'thelpless. I possessed the means and the knowledge to change the courseof events. True enough, Lauren had died because I'd interfered withwhat had been a delicate, established flow, but I saw no alternativebut to try and help. The. She would often talk to me while I had my morning coffee but it was going in one ear and out the other as she told me a variety of things. She usually got out bed before I did, and I would snooze for another thirty minutes or so, before getting up.I got up when she did. I washed my face and made coffee. When she started talking I was awake and listening, picking up on things I had been missing. As the days passed she made little comments about her shape, her weight, how her hair was looking. . More

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