There was no distinction in this place. Everything smelled the same. The cafeteria menu would not change, regardless of whether the diner was the heal...r or the healed, the sick or the well, the severely hurt or the hypochondriac."Sean, I know you're still no finer off now than when my son passed on," the old woman offered in a tremulous monotone."Passed on?" the young man thought, mouthing the words while his eyes narrowed to meet his grandmother's gaze.Her son, his father, had not simply. Inside, there were at least thirty candles, many pink and rose-scented. The bath was drawn, still steaming hot and with a layer of bubbles. There was another note on the counter top, beside an empty silver bucket and a bowl of expensive, individually-wrapped Belgian chocolate.Make yourself comfortable, gorgeous. Call me when you're in, and I'll bring the champagne.Gorgeous? I thought. Hardly. But then ... well, I was standing in front of the mirror, so I tried to see what he saw in me. I was. More

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