The three-day gap was small enough that Monique could wave it away as the untidiness of international business.

It was also exactly the kind of small wrong number that, in my experience, is never alone — that is only ever the first one you happen to find.

Zoe touched the tablet and then looked at me with the particular caution of a child about to admit to something.

“Mom.

When I helped Aunt Monique with her old iPad, I saw her password.”

“You shouldn’t be looking at anyone’s password.”