don’t we go for a little drive? Some fresh air will do you good.”
Something about her voice sounded rehearsed.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Oh, somewhere beautiful. It’s a surprise.”
I hesitated.
But she was already folding a blanket over my knees.
Against my better judgment, I let her help me into the car.
As we drove away from the village, the familiar houses disappeared behind us.
The roads grew narrower.
The fields became deserted.
And when Maria turned onto an isolated hillside road, I recognized the broken
white road sign David had shown me.
My stomach tightened.
“Maria, turn around,” I whispered.
She smiled at me through the rearview mirror.
“Don’t worry, Mom. You’ll love the view once the fog clears.”
Minutes later, she stopped near the top of a steep hill and helped me back into my wheelchair.
The cold wind blew across the empty road.
There wasn’t another person in sight.
Maria began pushing me toward the steepest section.
“Maria, that’s close enough,” I said.
She didn’t answer.
“Maria, stop!”
Suddenly, she released the handles.
