The sterile white light of the Fairfield County oncology clinic flickered above Eleanor Harrington’s silver hair.
At seventy-two, after two brutal years of chemotherapy that left her retching into blue plastic basins, the doctor’s words felt like a resurrection.
‘No evidence of disease.’
She whispered a prayer and clutched the small gold cross her grandmother had given her on a wedding day forty years ago, when she’d been a blushing bride in lace and dreams.