Feet wearing rubber soled orthopedic shoes padded up behind her. "What's the matter, madam?" Inge asked.

Linda kept staring at the image in the photograph, expecting it to metamorphose back to Julie, who had previously held that position in the picture. But Lauren kept looking out at her out of eyes that seemed alive. The most amazing thing about it was that this was not the twenty-one year old Lauren, whom she'd last seen thundering off on a trip to see a concert, this was Lauren with a few years of age on her, Lauren as she might have looked had she lived up till the day of Linda's wedding! Her hair was still long and full, but it had been styled into big, beautiful curls that cascaded loosely past her shoulders. Something about her expression, her style, or her lean look suggested a woman of twenty-eight rather than a girl seven years younger.

"What has upset you?" Inge asked, plaintively.

Linda realized that she'd better place the picture back onto the mantel, before she dropped it. Yet, her hands trembled so badly that she passed it to Inge so that she could place it back on the mantel instead. When the wedding photo had been placed securely as it had been before, Linda crept forward to study it some more, still seeing Lauren where Julie should have been.

"How can I help?" Inge asked, in her soft, soothing, kind tones.

For a moment, Linda considered telling her the truth, and explaining about Lauren.

To do so would have opened up a whole new can of worms, however. Would Inge feel comfortable continuing to work with a woman who saw ghosts? Would she feel comfortable telling her most intimate, long-forgotten about secrets to a woman who was, in reality, still a stranger? "I always get emotional when I look at the picture," Linda said, trying to force a smile. "I think I need to lay down."

Rather than climb the stairs to the bedroom, Linda shuffled toward the rear corner of the house, and her sanctuary. She lowered down to the soft, inviting daybed and closed her eyes.

"Would you like me to get you some hot tea?" Inge asked.

"That would be nice."

She could only lie on her back now. To make it easier, she arranged pillows in an incline and would try to fall asleep in a semi-sitting position. Most days it worked. Hayley would not need to be picked up for several hours, yet. Could someone have doctored the picture? With computers nowadays, all kinds of slick photographic fakery could be achieved. Who would do that, though? Stephen had only heard of Lauren a few times, knowing her as that "girl who died tragically at the Who concert." He'd only seen her picture once, and it had been a sloppy, drunken one where she held herself up against Linda and Julie and grinned goofily for the camera.




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