He brought wine when he wanted something forgiven, flowers when he wanted a question dropped, and pastries when he wanted a document signed.

“Not at all,” I said.

Ten minutes later the doorbell rang.

Ofelia hurried down the hallway before anyone else could answer it.

“Brenda!

Come in, dear.”

Brenda stepped through the door in a cream blouse and tailored trousers, carrying a leather folio.

Her hair was perfect again.