We didn’t dare say a word to each other. My husband had come to the same realisation. We were too ashamed to continue looking, and turned our backs on Emerence and her broom. Viola scratched at the door to the balcony, wanting to go out, but I didn’t let him. Neither of us spoke, and why should we? The need was for action, not words. But we went back to our own television. Even now I cannot forgive myself when I am reminded of what I ought to have done, but went no further than the thought. I’ve
