Chapter 5 — Things Under My Own Roof

I should have dismissed her then.

That is what the man I had been for fifteen years would have done — ended the conversation, restored the order, sent her back to her mop and her dusting and the invisibility I preferred in the people who worked for me.

But I did not.

Something made me ask her to go on, and once she began, I could not make myself stop her.

Each thing she told me was small.