1947
The Lawrences drove their brand new Lincoln Zephyr straight from the storefront window to Palm Springs, with only a quick stop in Bel Air to load their bags and pick up Richard’s nurse.
The car now sits just outside the desert town. It’s covered in dust and muck. Richard, who insisted on driving, lies on the hard ground. His breathing is even more labored that usual.
Dora holds an umbrella, shielding Richard’s sallow face from the brutal sun. An urgent whisper to the nurse. “Get help. Find a doctor. Hurry.”
Lotus does hurry. She pulls up her long skirt and sprints across the hot sand towards town. She is not content to let the old man die out here.
She wants to kill him herself.
----------Tim Kirk---------- 