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(
She
had
hounded
him
to
his
grave
;
by
the
time
he
divorced
her
it
was
too
late
.
)
She
had
never
even
given
Jack
the
benefit
of
the
doubt
.
Not
the
smallest
.
Wendy
felt
her
face
burn
yet
knew
with
a
kind
of
helpless
finality
that
if
the
whole
thing
were
to
be
played
over
again
,
she
would
do
and
think
the
same
way
.
She
carried
part
of
her
mother
with
her
always
,
for
good
or
bad
.
"
Jack
-
"
she
began
,
not
sure
if
she
meant
to
apologize
or
justify
.
Either
,
she
knew
,
would
be
useless
.
"
Not
now
,
"
he
said
.
It
took
Danny
fifteen
minutes
to
drink
half
of
the
big
cup
’
s
contents
,
and
by
that
time
he
had
calmed
visibly
.
The
shakes
were
almost
gone
.
Jack
put
his
hands
solemnly
on
his
son
’
s
shoulders
.
"
Danny
,
do
you
think
you
can
tell
us
exactly
what
happened
to
you
?
It
’
s
very
important
.
"
Danny
looked
from
Jack
to
Wendy
,
then
back
again
.
In
the
silent
pause
,
their
setting
and
situation
made
themselves
known
:
the
whoop
of
the
wind
outside
,
driving
fresh
snow
down
from
the
northwest
;
the
creaking
and
groaning
of
the
old
hotel
as
it
settled
into
another
storm
.
The
fact
of
their
disconnect
came
to
Wendy
with
unexpected
force
as
it
sometimes
did
,
like
a
blow
under
the
heart
.
"
I
want
…
to
tell
you
everything
,
"
Danny
said
.
"
I
wish
I
had
before
.
"
He
picked
up
the
cup
and
held
it
,
as
if
comforted
by
the
warmth
.
"
Why
didn
’
t
you
,
son
?
"
Jack
brushed
Danny
’
s
sweaty
,
tumbled
hair
back
gently
from
his
brow
.
"
Because
Uncle
Al
got
you
the
job
.
And
I
couldn
’
t
figure
out
how
it
was
good
for
you
here
and
bad
for
you
here
at
the
same
time
.
It
was
…
"
He
looked
at
them
for
help
.
He
did
not
have
the
necessary
word
.
