“If you don’t mind me asking, Henry, how old are you?” “Thirty-two.” “Thirty-two. But that’s …” Gayle is surely doing the math in her head. “Well, that’s not possible. Violet is fifteen. That would mean …” Her voice fades, unable to utter the words. “That’s not possible, is it?” Again, she looks to her husband for an answer that explains her fears.
