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They filed into the room. As soon as the door closed behind them, Beth burst into tears. Faith put a comforting hand on her shoulder, and Beth stiffened and pulled away. She seemed to realize her rudeness a moment later, because she quickly apologized. “I’m sorry. I’m just… I can’t believe this. Poor Sarah. She’s very close with her sister, and I just hate thinking about what will happen when they tell her.”
That prompted fresh tears. Turk pressed his head gently to her legs and looked up at her until she calmed. She smiled down at him and stroked his fur. “Good boy.”
The four of them sat—Turk still close to Beth—and Faith began. “How long did you know Sarah?”
“Eight weeks,” Beth replied. “She joined us on the recommendation of her primary care doctor when she refused to see a therapist. We were her compromise, I guess.”
“How did she seem to you?”
Beth frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Was she generally happy, sad, friendly, aloof… I’m just trying to get a sense of who she was.”
“Oh. Well… she tried very hard to look happy, but she wasn’t. It wasn’t hard to see under the surface. She was very angry.”
“Angry at anyone in particular?” Michael asked.
“No, just at life. She thought it was unfair of her to lose her hearing. She didn’t think she deserved to suffer like that.”
“She told you this?”
“Yes. During our first session, I asked everyone to tell me how they felt about their hearing loss. There were two others who said the same thing Sarah did. That’s very common among hearing people when they lose their hearing.”
“Not fear?” Faith asked.
“Not usually at this stage,” Beth replied. “Fear happens when someone is in the process of losing their hearing and shortly after. People wonder if they’ll be able to take care of themselves or if they’ll ever live a normal life again. Sarah had lived with hearing loss for over a year. She was functioning very well. She wouldn’t have had those concerns anymore.”
“Was she friendly with other members of the group?” Faith asked.
Beth considered for a moment. “She was polite. I wouldn’t say particularly friendly. She would go through the motions of talking to people, but she never made friends.”
“Do people usually make friends in groups like this?”
“Not always,” Beth admitted. “But there’s a bond people feel when they’re going through the same journey, especially a difficult one. Sarah did all of the right things, but I always felt as if she was… resentful, I guess.”
“Resentful of what exactly? Her hearing loss?”
“Her hearing loss and the fact that we expected her to be happy with her life anyway. She seemed offended by my claims that it was possible to live a normal, fulfilling life with hearing loss.”
“She told you this?”
“No. It’s just an impression I got. Her shoulders would stiffen, and she’d fold her hands tightly in her lap like she was fighting the urge to shout at me.”
“Did anyone try to make friends with her?” Michael asked.
"I did. I noticed that she was keeping herself at arm's length from everyone. In week five, I asked if she would join me for coffee sometime so we could talk one on one. She gave me a look of pure rage. Not at me," she added quickly. "Grief that expressed itself as rage."
“So no one showed a special interest in her besides you?” Faith asked.
Beth sighed. “No. No one disliked her, but everyone could tell, I think, that she preferred to be left alone.”
Faith nodded. “One last question. Do you know a Monica Smith or a James Porter?”
She watched Beth closely as she replied. Beth’s brow furrowed. “No, I don’t. Should I?”
No sign of recognition. No sign of fear or guilt. No sign from Turk that he detected any of those emotions either.
Well, Faith hadn’t expected anything. It was just a shot in the dark. Like every shot in this entire damned case. “No,” she replied. “I was just curious.”