"Mrs. Bartello opened the screen wider, her eyes bunching with sorrow. "I'm sorry. You don't know. I'm sorry. Donna passed away." Holman felt himself slow as if he had been drugged; as if his heart and breath and the blood in his veins were winding down like a phonograph record when you pulled the plug. First Richie, now Donna. He didn't say anything, and Mrs. Bartello's sorrowful eyes grew knowing. She"