At first, he thought Thelma was thinking about all he’d said. He waited for a response, but as the minutes ticked by and he didn’t get one, he turned his ear to catch her rhythm. His heart slid a little deeper into his chest. Thelma Lewis’s rhythm was no more. Cress remained there, arms folded. A tear slid down his cheek. After a moment, he reached over and took the old woman’s hand, even though she didn’t hold it back. A low, quiet sob lifted in his throat, a sign of utter weakness he didn’t shew away. There on the beach, he cried for the old woman. He cried for the loss he knew Kate Kole
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