«Yeah, I'll bet … help at what? Or should I guess. I'm not blind either, you know. I've seen you two kissing and grabbing at each other like a couple of …»

Kate's palm flashed upward and stung across her daughter's cheek with a loud smack. Lucy scarcely moved, but her face bore the mark of four red fingers like a stenciled hand on her cheek. «Lucy … I'm sorry … Lucy?»

Lucille Edgecombe Barrett turned on her bare feet and walked away silently to her room, closed the door behind her, and locked it carefully. Not until she was in bed with her head beneath her pillow did she let herself go. A half hour later she had cried herself to sleep, and she did not awaken until the alarm rang at quarter past seven.

Kate Barrett's room was closed when she passed it on the way down to fix herself a quick breakfast. The Barrett domestic, Clara had arrived and was cleaning up the broken glass by the back door when Lucy came in. «Trouble, Miss Lucy? You look like you haven't slept a wink. That is, unless you got them red eyes from drinking.»

Lucy gave the elderly black woman a warm hug. «No, Clara, just the same old thing. Mother and I had another of our fights. This one was a real lulu.»

«Which one of you broke the door?»

«Neither one. We had a break-in here last night. Or rather almost had one. I guess the lights must have scared him away.»

«A break-in? Did you call the police?»

Lucy was pawing through the cupboard in search of a snack-sized box of cereal. «Oh, yeah, police and guns and everything. And then Mother accused me of being a whore and slapped me.»

«What? Why, Miss Lucy, that don't sound right to me. Are you sure it happened just like that?»

The long-haired blonde girl sat down at the kitchen breakfast table and stared into the empty coffee cup that Clara had provided for her. «No, Clara, I don't know how it happened. It was just like all the other nights. She said something or I said something and we were off and running. Only this time she hit me … hard.» She was trying not to look at Clara, for the gray-haired Negro woman had practically raised her and it was impossible to keep anything from Clara. She could lie to Kate, even once in a while to Daddy when he was alive, but never to Clara. She was too sharp.