Lorraine wiped away another tear from her eye with her handkerchief. She almost hated to use the handkerchief. It was another reminder of everything she'd lost already. She looked down at the little blue piece of cloth with pink roses embroidered on the corner. Her mother had helped her embroider a dozen of them when she was only ten years old. Their pink petals looked faded and frayed now from years of use.
Her mother had been gone for a whole...