“Oh, honey, I’m sure you’ll get over that, in time. It’s not unusual to feel the way you do. There have been similar cases. Remember Patty Hurst? She ended up working with her kidnappers.”
“But Rashid didn’t kidnap me.”
“No, but he was the one who was, in effect, your jailer.”
“Well yes, but this is different. I fell in love with him, Mom, and I’ll never see him again.”
“Yes, that’s right, but you’ve got to try to forget him and get on with your life instead of sitting around thinking about him,” admonished the ever practical Edith.
“Oh I know you’re right, Mom, but it’s so hard,” lamented Sara.
“Of course it is,” agreed the older woman, “but you’re strong, Sara, and I know you can do it.”
Sara nodded silently, her chin quivering slightly.
“Good,” said Edith, feeling better they had talked. “Now how would you like a nice cup of hot tea?”
“That sound great,” answered Sara. “I just can’t seem to get warm,” she added with a shiver.
Always the mother, Edith put her hand to Sara’s forehead.
“I hope you’re not coming down with something,” she said.
“Me too,” agreed Sara.