“I can’t believe he is gone,” she whispered, recalling his seventieth birthday party only three weeks earlier. The events of the past four days replayed in her mind. On Monday evening she had stayed at her office to work out an investment plan for a new client. When she got home to her Greenwich Village apartment at eight o’clock, she had made her usual evening call to her father. Daddy sounded very down, she remembered. He told me that Mom had had a terrible day, that it was clear the Alzheimer’s was getting worse. Something made me phone back at ten thirty. I was worried about both of them.
Excerpt from THE LOST YEARS by Mary Higgins Clark
Copyright © 2012 by Mary Higgins Clark. Reprinted by permission of Simon & Schuster, Inc, NY. For more on Mary and her new book The Lost Years go to SimonandSchuster.com