Her eyes moved toward the hallway mirror.
***
On the drive home, he kept one hand on the wheel and the other on his knee, opening and closing his fingers.
“She didn’t look at herself once,” he said.
I watched houses slide past the window.
“I know.”
“I’m so worried about her,” Mason whispered, his shoulders dropping. “She’s always been my anchor… and to see her like this…” He swallowed hard, unable to force out the rest.
“I’m so worried about her.”
I gently squeezed his hand. “It’s okay. She’ll be fine.”
But as our eyes met, the truth hung heavy between us.
***
The next afternoon, Maribel called to ask if the photographer could keep her out of “the important pictures.”
