Along the tree-lined path, the lamplight filtered through the leaves while the cool night breeze carried a faint chill.
Hilary finally grew tired of wandering and fell asleep against Claire's shoulder.
Claire carried her daughter toward the parking lot. The underground lot had long been packed, so Gilbert Watson's car was left in a corner farther away.
Gilbert strode out of the mall, his hands full of shopping bags.
He looked up.
Claire was walking ahead, her slender frame swaying under the weight of her child, fragile as a willow in the wind. Every step seemed a strain.
Hilary must weigh forty or fifty pounds by now.
"Here, give me the child. You carry the bags," Gilbert said, setting the packages down and reaching out his arms.
Claire hesitated, then prepared to pass Hilary over.
After all, there was still quite a distance to the car, and she was struggling. Years of carrying Adam and Hilary had already damaged her wrists.
