passed； then another； and the enormity of the day's happenings
sank in。 Mitch had deceived her。 Oh； it might have started innocently
enough in September； but in time she had mentioned the crash； even its
date； and the uping trial。 He might have spoken up then。 He might
have spoken up last night。
She held her stomach tightly。 If only she could cry。 If only she could
scream。 Instead she felt drained； heartbroken； half whole。
The telephone rang again。 She tried to ignore it under a layer of
pillows。 When it kept up； she realized that if it was her mother again
and she didn't answer； the woman would be on at her door in no time
flat。
With an effort； she dragged herself from the sofa and went to the wall
phone in the kitchen。 〃Hello？〃
〃Anne？〃 His voice was deep and； in spite of everything； dear。
Stunned； she quietly hung up the phone。 Wobbly legs took her back to the
sofa。 She doubled over there； hugged her knees to her chest； and waited
for him to call again。 In a matter of seconds； the phone began to ring。
She let it ring and ring and ring。 She rocked back and forth； suffering
with the sound。 She tried covering her ears with her hands； but the
ringing seemed to grow louder and louder； more and more harsh； crueler
and crueler。
At last； it ceased。 Only then did she break down and weep。
The days that followed were pure hell for Anne。 After tears； came
selfrecrimination。 She had been naive； sh