“I expected an interrogation.”
“Hank showed unusual discipline.”
“He asked whether I intended to establish permanent residency.”
“He could have requested your tax records.”
“That is true.”
Annie moved our joined hands slightly between us, a small swing that felt younger than either of us.
“Rosa didn’t ask anything.”
“Rosa believes questions are unnecessary when she already knows the answers.”
“Does she?”
“She has never allowed uncertainty to reduce her confidence.”
At the house, Annie stopped at the foot of the porch.
“You left the light on.”
“The steps are uneven.”
“It was daylight when we went to dinner.”
“They remain uneven throughout the day.”
Her smile was gentle enough to make me regret providing a defense.
Inside, the house seemed smaller with Annie in it, though not crowded. Her presence made me aware of every room and every choice I had made before she arrived.
She placed the hat on the kitchen counter.
“I brought something.”
“If it is another stuffed animal, Captain Pancake needs time to recover.”
“It’s for Lexi.”
Annie took a cream envelope from her bag. Lexi’s name was written across the front in careful block letters, surrounded by three small fish that appeared to have been drawn during turbulence.
“You wrote back.”
“I finally used the stationery.”
“The mystery is over.”
“It was a brief and unsuccessful era.”
She handed me the envelope.
I turned it over without opening it.
“What did you write?”
“That being frightened doesn’t mean she can’t do something. I also told her fear can contain useful information, so she should continue following her instructor’s directions.”
