Mary smelled the coffee’s intense aroma, as it pierced the dense fog in which she had been living, hiding, wandering… The fog had become familiar, almost comfortable. In bed she was safe, from having to remember, from having to make decisions, from having to navigate the unknown.

What was it that caused her sister to say she shouldn’t drive anymore? How dare she? She smelled the coffee again and remembered the espresso she had shared with her friend in that small sunlit piazza in Italy. Where was Anna now? Had she passed away? She hadn’t seen her for years. Suddenly she recalled how frightened she was when she had to pull off the highway to call her husband because she was lost. She pulled the covers over her head, willing her racing heart to be still.

“Mary, your breakfast is ready,” Anna called sweetly from the foot of the stairs.