Nobody noticed Tawana’s depression. Those she kept house for had barely talked to her before, and after a few weeks of congenialities born of pity the family was right back to simply giving terse orders. They did, however, give her a quarter raise and allow her to take home even more leftovers than she had been taking before. They couldn’t have known it still would never be enough. The few girlfriends she had tired of trying to get her out of the house, so they stopped coming by because they knew there was nothing more they could say. Her daughter often asked her why she was crying, but after a couple weeks of witnessing the same breakdown night after night, the child simply concluded it was actually nothing wrong, only something else new she had to get used to. The milk and icemen were genuine and honest; they didn’t dare take advantage of a widow by offering their shoulders to cry on, even if it could have led them to her bed. So even they left her alone after she turned completely silent even whenever paying them. And that was just the way Tawana liked it.