She moves to the next thing before I have a chance to get up. She makes my spit hot and bitter as though someplace in my mouth a cut is bleeding hard. “I’ve noticed you don’t go off-island. I don’t know all the details of your situation and I don’t expect you to tell me, but I feel it’s my responsibility to check that everything’s”—euphemism pause—“in order. Do you have a family doctor on the mainland? Have you ever had a pap smear?”

And I’m up. “Yeah, Gretchen, thanks. That’s great. And, yeah, we have a great doctor, so I’m all set. Really. But I have to go. I’m waiting for an important phone call”—the chapel bell rings but it doesn’t mean anything—“so I should really take my groceries and get back.”

Gretchen gets up too. I think she’s going to do something dorky like shake my hand but she just stands there behind her desk, grinning. “If you ever want to talk . . .”

“Yeah, I’ll send you a friend request on Facebook.”

She shrugs, like I’m not mad, just disappointed, walks me to the kitchen, and hands me the paper bag out of the big fridge. I’d be out of here on the quick but there’s something I need to say. It feels like I’m waiting for my question to become real so I can say the words, but I know that’s pretty much the opposite of how it works. So I just spit it out. “Gretchen, I want to go to the meeting tomorrow. About the Duchess and what you’re going to do.”

“Didn’t Rose speak to you about it?”

“Yeah, she did.”

“And what did she say?”

Don’t cry. Do not cry. “I just thought that you could say something to the others. You know, because I come here—almost every day—and she’s, you know, we were . . .”

“I’m sure no one would object to you paying your due respects. Really, no one would deny you that. But we have rules here. We all loved your grandmother and we’ve been flexible, allowing you to stay with us for the last few months, but I doubt there is anything that can be done in this case.”

“I’d just listen. I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Wouldn’t you?” And it’s not a question because she half laughs like she’s just caught me in a stupid lie, but it was supposed to be a promise. Like I’d try, I’d do my best, if she’d just let me come. But there’s no point arguing anyway. I’ll probably be gone by tonight.

“Okay, fine.” And that’s the last thing I say before my throat closes up with helpless anger.