Blue Bottle From a Small Pharmacy Prompts a Search for Answers

sounding oddly flat. “My old trowel snapped this morning.”

“Of course,” I said, rising slowly to avoid putting too much pressure on my left leg. “Are you feeling alright, Gail?”

“Just a headache,” she said, her eyes focusing on the dry grass near her shoes. “It started after lunch and won’t seem to clear up.”

I looked at her pale cheeks, noting how she continue reading …