“She talked about you,” he said, “as if you had invented the stars.” And I had to turn away, and look out at the red rocks, so that this kind old man would not see me break — this stranger who had loved my mother, without a word, for years, and set aside the sweetest peaches for her every week, and asked for nothing, and kept her secret because she asked him to.

He had seen her.

All that time, when I had not, someone had.

Chapter 20 — I’m Right Here

My mother died nine days later, just as the sun came up over the red rocks.

It was peaceful.

Maya was asleep in the next room.

David was making coffee in the next room.