“I’m glad they’re doing this now,” chirps the old woman. “It’s more decent this way. None of those vultures trying to get a look inside the town house. I’m Paula Edwards, by the way. This is my husband, Hank. We own 159 next door. I remember when they moved in. Seemed like a perfectly happy couple to me.” Quinn nods along, keeping his fingers entwined with mine.

“You know, I always say to Hank that I never trusted him. We had adjoining gardens and he would always lie about what new construction they were going to do. But she seemed nice. She really did. Her poor soul. What a thing to happen on our quiet street. No one’s made an offer on it yet, though I’m sure it’ll be snatched up within the year. I’ve heard, though, that there are a lot of legalities tying up the property. Shady stuff, if you ask me. He was such a dog, that man.” She clucks her tongue. “Anyway, how did you know them?”

Quinn is saved from answering. A tall, blonde woman in a turquoise caftan has approached the mic. She’s welcoming everyone. She introduces herself as Louisa Bennington. She thanks someone called Shirley for her hospitality, for allowing this event to be hosted here. She reminds us that we’re celebrating a life, not mourning a death. That she encourages everyone to donate to an organization fighting intimate partner violence. That there will be Aperol spritzes, Odilie’s favorite, and some light hors d’oeuvres after the speeches, the performances.

I feel dizzy. The scent of lavender washes over me, planted in this garden, this courtyard. I’d smelled it on her, not on her, related to her. The perfume on her vanity that I spritzed onto my wrists. How naive was I? Her stuff was just lying around and I believed his bald-faced lies, never questioning.

I close my eyes, squeeze Quinn’s hand as hard as I can. Panic, cold and dark and seeping, is erupting inside me. I keep my eyes closed, my alarm preventing me from standing up, from leaving, from moving an inch. From hearing whatever is going on toward the front. Instead, there’s just a dark buzz threatening to erode my consciousness.

And then.

Quinn is lifting me up out of the chair and leading me toward the edge of the courtyard. Everyone is getting up. The ceremony is over and I somehow blocked out the whole thing. “Are you okay?” he whispers.