I made one bedroom into a sewing room.
The other became a guest room with yellow curtains I chose without consulting anyone.
Lillian visited on a Saturday with lemon biscuits and a folder.
I stiffened when I saw it.
“Nothing to sign,” she said quickly.
Inside was a receipt confirming the last recovered portion of her money. Between the funds seized during the investigation and the payments required by the judgments, the principal loss had finally been repaid.
She had closed the accounts Rebecca once accessed and moved her remaining savings under her own control.
“I wanted to tell you in person.”
We drank tea at the kitchen table.
She was volunteering twice a week at a neighborhood center, trimming hair for people preparing for job interviews. She had no wish to own another salon.
“I like locking up and going home,” she said.
I understood that better than I could explain.
Before leaving, she asked whether she could see the garden. June had been helping me bring it back after two neglected summers.
Beyond the patio, pale green shoots crowded the fence.
Lillian bent to examine them.
“Daffodils?”
“I think so. June planted them.”
Our neighbor had made a nuisance of herself the previous autumn, appearing with sacks of bulbs and insisting I choose a place for them.
June was outside next door. Lillian called her over.
“I was just taking credit for your work,” I said.
June looked at the shoots, then at me.
“I only planted them.”
Something in her voice made me turn.
“Who bought them?”
She wiped her palms on her gardening trousers.
“You did.”
I frowned.
June explained that, during those first difficult weeks, I had pressed grocery money into her hand because she kept bringing me dinners.
“I told you I didn’t need paying. You told me you needed to stop owing people.”
I remembered the exchange. I remembered being embarrassed by the foil dishes filling my refrigerator.
