The sprinkler heads were rusted, she noticed, as she passed down the sidewalk.

Linda frowned at the idea of Stacy letting even one little detail like that escape her attention. The Stacy she remembered had been somewhat exacting, always able to remember the smallest details. Willing to bury pain and minimize it. The rusted sprinkler heads, to Linda, seemed an emblem of Stacy's suffering.

Well, the lawn was trimmed, and Rat had managed to buy a pretty sweet-looking car. Linda slipped her bright red nails across the finish, not leaving a scratch behind.

She straightened her short black skirt, wondered if she looked chunky today, then rang the bell.

Silence reigned. Linda wondered if Stacy was home.

When the door opened, she thought that the girl looked much too thin, and her haircut didn't suit her at all. None the less, she opened her arms and smiled. "Here I am!"