He turned a page.

“Those should have been put in storage years ago.” I saw a photograph of Rowena, I said, keeping my voice perfectly level.

She looked very much like you.

The rustling of the paper stopped instantly.

He set the coffee cup down with a hollow ring.

“We do not discuss Rowena.”

I only wondered about the accident, I said.

Your mother mentioned the memorial, but there was so little detail in the local papers.