After the Rains by Deborah Raney Page A

of the joyful things in his life of sorrow, had been shattered in one moment of horror, one idiotic choice.
    If anyone found out the truth, they would never forgive her. Her agony, her overwhelming guilt almost paralyzed her. And as she fell asleep that night, she prayed in all sincerity that she would not wake up the following morning.
    But she did wake up. The next morning. And the next, and the next. And only the pills they’d prescribed for the pain offered any relief—because the pills brought once again the sweet release of sleep.

    On the third morning after Natalie came home from the hospital, Daria went into her room and sat on the side of the bed. She put a hand on Natalie’s forehead. “How are you feeling today, honey?”
    Natalie shrugged and closed her eyes.
    Daria knew her daughter was suffering more than she could even express. But she feared that if Nattie didn’t open up about how she was coping, depression would overcome her.
    “Don’t you think you should try to get up for a little while?” Daria asked now. “Come downstairs. Maybe you can sit out on the porch and get a little sunshine. It’s really warming up out there today.”
    “Maybe later, Mom. I really don’t feel up to it right now.”
    “Nattie, it’s not good for you just to lie here and … and think.”
    “Mom. Please.”
    She didn’t want to push too hard, but Daria knew her daughter well. She knew Natalie had a tendency to be too analytical, to exaggerate things to the point that she didn’t see the reality. Oh, why did you let this happen, Lord? Nattie struggles enough as it is .
    “Would you just tell me what you’re thinking about while you’re lying up here?”
    “What do you think I’m thinking, Mom? What else could I be thinking?” Suddenly her face crumpled, and she threw herself into Daria’s armsas though she were five years old again. “Oh, Mom. It’s my fault. Sara’s gone, and it’s all my fault.”
    Daria fought back her own tears and stroked her daughter’s back. “Shh, shh,” she whispered. “Natalie, it was not your fault. We’ve told you already, Brian ran the stop sign. The sheriff’s deputy said that the highway patrol did tests that tell them exactly what happened.”
    She didn’t want to upset Natalie, but she knew they needed to talk about what had happened that night. Gently, she pushed Natalie away from her and took both of her hands. “Honey, have you remembered anything else from that night?” In her heart, Daria knew the accident report told the truth: Natalie’s car had been pulling out of the driveway that led to the river on Hansens’ property when it was struck. But she desperately wanted to believe that her daughter had had a good reason to be there on that night. “You … you and Sara were at the party before the accident happened?”
    Natalie’s eyes narrowed, her nostrils flared almost imperceptibly, and she nodded slowly. “Yeah, Mom. We were there.”
    Daria’s pulse quickened. “Why?”
    Natalie glared at her, then dropped her head. “We just drove out to see who was there.”
    Daria struggled to keep her voice steady. “How long were you there?”
    “I don’t know, Mom. Not very long.”
    “You two weren’t—”
    “Mom! Please,” Natalie’s head snapped up. “I really don’t want to talk about this. It doesn’t matter anyway. It doesn’t change … anything.” She started to cry again.
    “Natalie, nobody is blaming you. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and something terrible happened, but it doesn’t do anyone any good for you to sit here and beat yourself up over it.”
    Daria took her daughter into her arms again. She felt Natalie stiffen. She had stopped crying. After a few minutes, Daria gently pushed her away and smoothed a pale strand of hair off her forehead. “Honey, I know this is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to face. It’s been hard for all of us. We loved Sara too. But now it’s you we’re worried