Addison knew if she spoke too soon her voice would crack, so hanging her head, she took the time she needed to collect herself. After a short while, she cleared her throat, raised her eyes, and looked at the little man standing a few feet away. “His...his favorite color is green.”

A faint smile crossed Nigel’s face. “I’ll make a note of it, Mrs. Kane. Don’t you worry.”

***

When Addison went back inside the house, she saw Evelyn descending the staircase with a man carrying a small black bag. Ignoring them, Addison walked into her study and poured herself a drink. Sipping the liquor, she didn’t return to the foyer until she heard the front door close.

Finding Evelyn standing at the bottom of the stairs, Addison asked, “How is she?”

“Not well,” Evelyn said, shaking her head. “The doctor gave her something to help her sleep.”

“Oh.”

Evelyn cocked her head. For the first time in forever, Evelyn couldn’t read Addison’s expression. There was no flicker of emotion good or bad, and if pain or loss existed it was hidden behind a canvas, smooth and blank.

“Are you all right?” Evelyn asked, touching Addison on the sleeve.

“Yeah,” Addison said, taking a sip of her drink. “I’m fine.”

“You should go up and get out of those wet clothes.”

Addison glanced at her tuxedo jacket, confused to see it glistening with water.

The longer Evelyn waited for a response, the more furrowed her brow became. “Addison,” she said, tugging ever so slightly on Addison’s sleeve. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes, I heard you,” Addison said as she lifted the glass to her lips. Emptying it in one swallow, she handed the tumbler to Evelyn. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”

“Before you go, I’d...I’d like to stay the night. Someone should be here if Joanna needs anything. Is that all right?”

Evelyn was only offering the sympathy that comes from compassion and friendship, but her words, however innocent, had pained Addison. Evelyn had just made it very clear she believed Addison wasn’t capable of the same.

Addison bowed her head as she started up the stairs. “Stay as long as you’d like, Evelyn,” she said without looking back. “Good night.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

An unexpected winter squall enveloped the motorcade as they made the slow and dignified drive to Highgate. Robert hadn’t had many friends, but Addison’s staff, the nurses who had attended him, and a few neighbors from Burnt Oak were there to say good-bye to their friend. Most had never set foot in limousines, stretched and black, but respectfully they held their awe behind eyes filled with sadness.