I did not move back into the South Wing. I did not move into the old Luna suite either.

The first suggestion came from a house steward who looked as if he regretted speaking before the sentence left his mouth.

"Traditionally, the Luna apartments—"

"No."

He stopped. Luci

Leo's question stayed in the dark between us. Did Papa tell me the truth about you? I could have answered too quickly. Yes. No. Some of it. Instead I asked, "What did he tell you?"

Leo rolled onto his side under the blue blanket.

"That you loved me before I was born."

The first missing widow allotment belonged to a woman I remembered. Not her face at first. Her handwriting. Ruth Dain wrote every request in block letters because her hands shook in winter.

Three years ago, before the South Wing, I had approved extra lamp oil f