"If you're up to it, you can fix your own breakfast." Scrambled eggs and bacon?" she asked.I grimaced. "The scrambled eggs are powdered eggs, the milk...to reconstitute them is powdered milk. There is no bacon. I'll just fix myself a bowl of dry cereal and have it plain."She nodded and went off in the kitchen while I went on through to the garage and into the wood room. It was fair-sized, and consisted of stacks of cordwood that were piled shoulder high. There was a handcart that I loaded up with. It was the first time she had been allowed to watch her father work. She vividly remembered holding Ann’s hand as her father finished getting her ready, the calm look in Ann’s eyes as she watched their father lift the cleaver, and the way her hand had tightened on Rebecca’s momentarily as it came down through her slim neck. But the image that stayed with her the most, was the way her older sister’s eyes kept moving and the strange, bemused and not quite panicky look in in them as her father. More

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