My daughter, who had not yet learned to caption things kindly, had simply told me what the photograph showed.
Chapter 3 — My Own Mother
I should tell you about my mother now, briefly, because she matters more to this story than I could have guessed when it started, and because losing her is the reason I let Mireille so far in.
My mother, Adeline, died when I was in college — an illness, fast at the end.
We had not been rich.
She had raised me mostly alone, on an accountant’s careful salary, in small tidy apartments where the budget was a thing we discussed openly at the kitchen table.