I set the bags on the counter. “Where do you keep bowls?”

She pointed to a cabinet, then eased herself onto the couch with a sigh she tried to hide. While the soup warmed, I noticed a folder on her kitchen table labeled St. Vincent, and beside it bills, appointment cards, and a folded letter with a university logo.

I looked away before curiosity became invasion.

Sophie noticed anyway. “You can ask.”

“I don’t know what I’m allowed to ask.”

“That never stopped you during tax season.”