I sped up the driveway and sprinted up the steps to press the doorbell. I shifted nervously from foot to foot until Susan answered the door.
“Ms. Chris!” she exclaimed, when she saw me standing there. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Is she in?” I asked.
Susan pulled me inside and closed the door.
“Oh, Ms. Chris, you won’t believe it’s her. She hasn’t been the same since you left.” When I looked at her, confused, she drew me to a chair in the foyer and sat me down.
“I know what happened that day; we all heard her screaming at you. The next week, though, every time I went up to change her bed, or clean her bathroom, she’d be sitting there, crying…every day…for over a week. She wouldn’t talk to any of us about it…not even to Jack, and he’s been here the longest.”
“Uh…” How do I ask this. “Has there…is there anyone else?”