She wished she could believe what the detective had said, that everything was exactly as it appeared to be. But her conversation with Marguerite still weighed on her. Marguerite’s insistence that Tara would never have killed her son rang utterly true to Eden. And now, there was something else. To the police it meant nothing. But to Eden, it seemed the most important fact of all. When the detective had been describing what they found at the scene, he said that Jeremy was in his bed, and Tara was in her own bed. Eden allowed herself to think about that time in her life when her mother was the source of so much warmth and tenderness. In particular, she remembered one time, when she had fallen ill. Tara and Hugh had called the doctor, who prescribed medication and told them to watch her. If her fever does not break, the doctor said, take her to the Emergency Room. Hugh had gone out to fill the prescriptions, and Tara had made Eden’s room fresh and comfortable. Eden could still remember that long night, when she thrashed in her bed, suffering from feverish visions.
