I fished out the keystick for my car, then paused. I felt torn. Should I stay with Mama G, in case she had another lapse like the one just now? She seemed all right, but it was hard to tell. Lingering guilt gnawed at me. I hadn’t been there for my own grandmother, on the night she finally died after lying in a coma for two weeks. I’d been a Lone Star rookie then, putting in twelve-hour days, and had put off my hospital visit until the next morning. I didn’t realize that one night was all my grandmother had left.