Pearl knew nothing about accounting.

What she knew was the piano.

One morning she asked me to play the three notes Rosalind had taught her.

I played them badly.

She smiled and reached beneath the music stand, opening a narrow compartment where a small notebook lay wrapped in cloth.

The book contained dates and sketches in Rosalind’s hand.

Several pages were lists of staff, medication questions, and a reminder to ask Desmond about unexplained accounts.

Near the back was one sentence circled twice: Ask Vivian why the cabin camera was disabled the night of the accident.