Lucy changed into her Goodwill jeans and sweatshirt, plastering her hair down with an elastic band and securing it under a tight hood. Wood, regarding her husband with a glance of vindictive triumph. “You were there, were you?” He laughed a little impatiently. “What are your objections?” she said. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. A shiver slid down inside her. " "A promise to my mother?" said Winifred, unsuspiciously. I cannot protect you. It was not possible.
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