lost the necklace, maybe she would have run away with Pat. Yes, then she would never have got the cancer, because Pat didn't smoke, and she could have gone on training dogs wherever Pat went. Maybe then she wouldn't have gotten so ugly. She closed her arms over her flat chest and stood with her head down, breathing deeply in the bright empty space.
* * *
"Hey Eddie—we need a baffle with those fresnels. And if you see my dipstick . . . Uh, can I help you ma'am?" a rough male voice interrupted.
Raylene's startled eyes looked toward the just-opened main entrance to see a beefy guy wearing a leather support belt striding toward her.
She mechanically croaked, "No I'm leaving—just had to see it."
"Well, ma'am this is a closed set, I have to ask you to leave. You don't belong here."
Oh, but she did. Raylene looked disdainfully through the young man and slowly walked up the aisle toward her golden doors.