“For my husband,” she said quietly.

“Tomorrow is the anniversary of his passing.”

Lupita caught her breath, and her whole face softened.

“Oh, ma’am,” she said.

“I am so deeply sorry for your loss.” And she looked at Lily, asleep on Clara’s shoulder, with a tenderness that no customer-service training could ever produce, because it did not come from training.

“Let me find you a proper crystal vase before you go upstairs,” Lupita said.

“Those flowers shouldn’t be left to wither in a dark room.” And she turned and walked toward the auxiliary supply room, and Patrick opened his mouth to object, and found that there was nothing to say, and closed it again.