Chapter Eight
Maureen and Jon Rush spent nearly a half-hour talking about meaningless things before she could mention the subject that was really on her mind.
“I need to know more about Sophie.”
“Her letter wasn’t clear?”
“It was very clear—as was her phone call.” She could feel the same frustration growing that she’d felt every day since Sophie disappeared. “It wasn’t enough for me. I don’t understand picking up your life like that, tearing up roots and throwing everything away.”
“You don’t understand because you don’t know her.”
“I do know her!”
“Not the Sophie who’s come to life the last few weeks.”
“Then tell me about that Sophie. Make me understand.”
He didn’t move on her passionate plea because the waiter was taking the order for dinner. She hadn’t bothered with the menu, a
