For one hour that room was a house.

And then at half past six Agnes signalled me into the hallway and told me, in a whisper, in the dark, that Silas could go to a proper school on the east coast, that the family could provide for him, and that this would be a great deal easier if I stopped asking questions around town about old filings.

I had asked one question, in 2006, on a driveway.

I did not answer her.