The hotel room number he should not have known.

The toy watch on the high shelf.

The wrist he remembered as a fact but not as a life.

The laugh.

When I finished, she did not laugh at me, which I had half expected, and she did not tell me I was grieving, which I had feared.

She sat quietly for a long moment.

“Memories aren’t enough to secure an arrest warrant, Mrs.

Morales,” she said at last, carefully.