Fox River Read Free

layout, but she wasn’t sure she could navigate it with her mother watching. For a moment her heart beat faster and her breath seemed to come in short gasps. The world was a black hole sucking at her, threatening to pull her into its void forever.
    “What are you doing here, sweetheart?” Maisy asked.
    Julia willed herself to be calm. “One place is exactly like another when you can’t see.”
    “That simply isn’t true. You need to be with people who love you, in a place you know well. Not with strangers.”
    “Look around. It’s almost like home. I have my own fireplace, a room full of antiques—so I’m told. The view is undoubtedly priceless.”
    “The only priceless thing in this room is my daughter, and she doesn’t belong here.”
    Julia’s sightless eyes filled with tears. She rose. It was safer to risk butting up against the furniture than her mother’s love. “Bard thought it would be best for everyone.”
    “And you agree?”
    “He doesn’t always get his way, Maisy. I just thought that this time, he might be right.”
    “Why is that?”
    “He’s afraid for Callie.” Julia stretched a hand in front of her and was disconcerted to discover that she wasn’t as close to the wall as she’d expected. She inched forward until she could touch it before she spoke again.
    “He says my…condition is confusing and upsetting her, that she feels somehow to blame—”
    “Ridiculous.”
    Julia faced her, or thought she probably did. “How would you know?”
    “Because I’m her grandmother. I’ve called her every day since the accident, and we went out for ice cream after school yesterday. Callie knows it isn’t her fault that Duster balked at the jump and you took it headfirst without him. Those are the chances anybody takes when she’s training a new horse.”
    “Right after the fall Callie told me she was sure Duster balked because she’d startled him with her pony.”
    “But didn’t you explain that Duster had balked half a dozen times in the past and would again? That’s what she told me. I don’t think she feels guilty anymore, she just feels lonely and afraid you aren’t coming back.”
    Julia swallowed tears. “Did you tell her I’m coming back as soon as I’m well?”
    “She’s eight. At that age a grandmother’s word isn’t quite as good as a mother’s.”
    “The fall had nothing to do with this…this condition. Did you tell her that, too?”
    “I did, but that’s harder for her to understand.”
    “How can she? I don’t understand it myself. One minute I can see, the next I can’t. Only there’s nothing wrong with my eyes. There’s nothing wrong with any part of me except my mind.”
    Maisy was silent, waiting, Julia supposed, for her to bring herself back under control. One thing mother and daughter did have in common was a mutual distaste for emotional fireworks. Julia began to prowl the room, hands extended. She found a desk chair and held on to it. “I’m not crazy,” she said at last.
    “Are you afraid I think so?”
    “Bard says it’s all about mind over matter. He wants me to be a big girl, square my shoulders and go about my business. If I put my mind to it and work hard while I’m here, I’ll see again.” She thought she managed a wry smile. “That’s what he would do, of course.”
    “He might be surprised. There are some things in life that even Lombard Warwick has no say in.”
    “I close my eyes, and every single time I open them again, I expect to see, but I can’t. I’ve fallen off horses plenty of times, but this was different. When I flew headfirst over that jump, I remember thinking about Christopher Reeve. His horse balked, and now he’s confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. When I hit the ground I was afraid to move, afraid I might not be able to sit up or walk again. I must have blacked out. When I woke up…”
    She felt her way around the desk, then over to the window. She faced her mother again. “When I woke up