Phoebe asked me about the fund in April, having found the paperwork on my desk because she is twelve and reads everything.

“Is this because of the lady in Charlotte?”

“Yes.”

“Are you doing it because you feel bad, or because it’s the right thing?”

“Both,” I said. “And I don’t know the proportions and I’ve stopped waiting to find out. The money moves either way.”

“Okay,” said Phoebe. “That’s a good answer.”