Tully shook her head. “Marah, your mother loves you no matter what and she’s proud of you. Believe me, princess, that’s the coolest thing in the world.”

The next morning Tully got up early and went to the bedroom door across the hall. There, she paused, gathering her nerve, and knocked. When no one answered, she quietly opened it.

Her mother was still asleep.

Smiling, she left the suite and closed the door quietly behind her. At Johnny’s door, she paused and knocked.

He answered quickly, dressed in one of the hotel’s robes, his hair dripping wet. “I thought we were starting at eight.”

“We are. I’m just going to get Cloud some clothes to take to rehab and some breakfast for all of us. Marah’s still asleep.”

Johnny frowned. “You’re moving awfully fast, Tully. The stores aren’t open yet.”

“I’ve always been fast. You know that, Johnny. And everything is open for Tallulah Hart. It’s one of the perks of my life. You have a key to my room?”

“Yeah. I’ll go over there now. You be careful.”

Ignoring his concern, she went to the Public Market and stocked up on croissants, beignets, and cinnamon rolls. Cloud needed to pack on a few pounds. Then she went to La Dolce, where she bought her mother jeans, tops, shoes, underwear and bras, as well as the thickest jacket she could find. She was back at the hotel by nine.

“I’m home,” she called out, kicking the door shut behind her. “And wait till you see what I’ve got.” She draped the garment bags over the sofa and set the bags on the floor.

At the small table in the sitting room, she began setting out the rolls and beignets.

Fat Bob was in the corner, shooting her entrance.

She gave him her best smile. “My mother needs to put on a few pounds. This should do it. I got practically every coffee Starbucks sells. I don’t know what she likes.”

Johnny sat on the sofa, looking tired.

“It’s like a morgue in here.” Tully went to her mother’s door and knocked. “Cloud?”

There was no answer.

She knocked again. “Cloud? Are you in the shower? I’m coming in.”

She opened the door.

The first thing she noticed was the smell of cigarettes and the open window. The bed was empty.

“Cloud?” She went to the bathroom, which was still damp and cloudy with steam. Thick Egyptian cotton towels lay in a heap on the floor. The washrag and hand towel were stained with dirt and lying in the sink.

Tully backed slowly out of the steamy bathroom and faced Johnny and the camera. “She left?”

“A half an hour ago,” he said. “I tried to stop her.”

Tully was stunned by how betrayed she felt, like that ten-year-old girl again, abandoned on the Seattle street. Worthless and unwanted.