She reached up with her right hand and touched the silver chain around her neck, holding the small silver link between her thumb and forefinger.

“I left two cardboard boxes in the back hall closet at the house,” Caroline said.

“I’m taking my yellowed sketchbooks and my grandmother’s silver necklace.”

Grant let out a short, quiet laugh that barely stirred the still air of the corridor.

“Take whatever personal trinkets you want from the flat, Caroline,” Grant said.

He adjusted his dark silk tie and looked past her shoulder toward the lit brass floor indicator above the elevator.

“Just keep your long-term expectations practical,” Grant added, his voice dropping into its familiar condescension.