Edith Pearson was worried about her daughter’s state of mind. She had been home for a week now and had hardly left the house. Edward said to give her time, that she had been through a terrible experience and needed to get her bearings again, but Edith knew her daughter, and there was something wrong—something she hadn’t told them. Edith was not one to pry, but she knew Sara was in pain and wanted to help. She couldn’t stand it any longer and went into the parlor where Sara sat rocking, wrapped up in Gram’s old afghan, just staring into the fire.

“Sara, honey,” she started.

“Yes, Mom?” answered Sara, not shifting her gaze from the fire.

Edith sat down on the sofa. “Honey, you know that I love you and would never want to interfere in your life, but I’ve been watching you mope around the house since you’ve been home, and I’m worried.”

Sara finally turned her head to look at her mother, and Edith looked into her daughter’s eyes with compassion. “Is there something I can do to help? Wouldn’t you like to talk about it?”

Sara saw the concern in her mother’s hazel eyes and her own bright blue ones filled with tears. “Oh Mom,” she sobbed, “I don’t know.”

“Oh, honey,” said Edith as she rose from the sofa to take her daughter in her arms. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know,” said Sara when she could speak, accepting the tissue her mother offered. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Sara looked around the room, all decorated with Christmas ornaments. The tree stood in the same corner it had every Christmas, with its lights and tinsel and balls, some of which were older than she. The crèche with the baby Jesus, surrounded by the china figures of Joseph and Mary, the three wise men, and smiling angles, was all laid out on the drop-leaf table behind the sofa.

She should be happy, and thankful that she was safe and at home, but she felt empty inside. It was even worse than after the divorce. God! That seemed so long ago, but was less than a year. So much had happened to her since then. Damn Rashid! Why did he have to make her fall in love with him? Would she ever be able to forget him?

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