If Aunt Ruth wanted to berate her for being fickle and foolish, well, that would be all right. She was fickle and she was foolish, but she was loved, so none of the rest mattered. “All right. All right. Give a body a moment to get decent.” Aunt Ruth opened the door, wearing her bathrobe and slippers, her silvery hair damp and hanging nearly to her waist. “What’s the matter?” Aunt Ruth hurried Madeline over to the bed and sat down beside her. “Good thing you’re going home and not staying here to always be rubbing elbows with killers and lunatics.” Madeline felt the tears well up again in her eyes, but she somehow managed to laugh, too. “What’s ailing you?” Aunt Ruth demanded. “Well, Drew and I were talking. I think we worked things out and, well . . .” Madeline gave her aunt an apologetic look and showed her the ring was again on her finger.
