Silver Hill
Allison had a visitor the day before she was to leave Silver Hill Clinic. It was in early spring, almost two years after Mike had gone looking for his brother. The dogwoods were out and the azalea bushes that surrounded the beautiful grounds were about to burst forth in a riot of colour.
The Jones family was not rich by any stretch of the imagination, but when their girl had called for Jimmy to come get her at O’Lunney’s that winter night, they had decided she would have the best medical care money could buy.
The therapists at Silver Hill were wise enough to understand that alcohol was not her problem. It was her way of self-medicating. She had never really dealt with her mother’s death. And that, followed by the loss of the man she loved, followed by the loss of her beloved business, had proved too much for her to deal with.
She was sitting in the garden, writing a letter to her friend, Kimberly, when Kevin Dennison sat down beside her. She stared at him in surprise.
‘I have a story to tell you,’ Kevin said.