He knew when to interrupt a board meeting and when a situation could wait.

He had never brought me gossip about my private life.

“An old colleague asked me to sponsor a spring fundraiser,” he explained.

“It’s for a neighborhood greenhouse in Saint Paul.

She sent photographs from last year’s event so I could understand the program.

I recognized Hannah.”

He handed me the tablet.

There she was, standing in sunlight beside a table of seedlings.