"I never knew, but I suspect not," he admits. "And you know what happened to our mother. I was twelve, then."

Thomas frowns, keeping his eyes ahead. If he keeps looking at Edith, he isn't sure he'll be able to get through this.

"Lucille was the only person, other than our nurse, to ever show me kindness, to care for me. And then we were separated. I did well enough, but I know she didn't go anywhere kind. When we were finally together again, all she could talk about was staying together. Staying together in the house that was finally ours. It was a decrepit mess by then, the money all gone thanks to our father."

Edith knows that part, but he finds himself recounting it to keep the momentum going.

"I wanted to leave, but I couldn't leave her. And she wouldn't leave the house."