She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. Let him not bear the weight of my punishment. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. When she was done she checked the patio door and carried his body into the garage, burying his remains next to the ten year old girl he had raped and killed last autumn, whose bones were starting to show in small areas where the maggots had feasted. “No,” she answered, reluctantly. Of course, he had no idea who I was. ’ ‘I am afraid that there is,’ Gerald told her evenly.
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