“Mom asked as she took a seat on the sofa beside Ruth one morning in late February. Ruth shook her head. “I’m still full from breakfast.” “But breakfast was a few hours ago, and you hardly ate a thing.” Ruth set her teacup on the table so hard that some splashed onto her hand. “Ouch!” “Did you burn yourself?” Mom leaned over and took hold of Ruth’s hand. “Maybe I’d better get some aloe to put on that.” “Don’t bother. It’ll be fine.” “It might leave a scar if you don’t tend to it right away.” Rut...h pulled her hand away. “At least let me get a cold washcloth.” Ruth studied the red blotch on her hand. “It’s nothing serious. I don’t need a washcloth.” Mom shrugged. They drank their tea in silence, then Mom looked over at Ruth and smiled. “It might be fun if we went to Berlin later this week. We could do some shopping and have lunch at—” “I don’t feel like shopping or going to lunch.” “But you’ve been cooped up in the house for so long.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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