“Funny where your mind can wander to,” I said, “I was just thinking about Dorothy. I miss her.”

Horace didn’t respond. I sighed, used to his silence and looked out at the lake. The sun reflected fluffy white clouds on its surface. I blinked, squinting at a patch of grass near the napping ducks that shimmered as if there was a puddle of water there. The little bird in my chest started thrashing against my ribs. Trapped.

“Now you see, Judith,” Horace said.

There was a smile in his voice, but I didn’t look there for reassurance. My eyes were trained ahead of me. “Yes, I answered. “But I don’t want to, Horace. I don’t want to.”