Then left it.
The next morning, I returned to the Greenwich estate kitchen.
Not to reclaim crystal.
Not silver trays.
Not imported soap.
The housekeeper stood beside a cardboard box.
“You only wanted these?”
“The mug and the towel.”
She lifted the lid.
Plain ceramic mug.
White.
Thin blue line around the rim.
Old dish towel beneath it.
“I remember that mug.”
“So do I.”
“Julian hated it.”
“I know.”
“He called it a hotel mug.”