“I kept the business together,” she said. “And took care of him when he came home. Made sure the girls were out of the way when he got angry.” Girls, she said, as if she wasn’t one. Maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she hadn’t had room to be.

The front door, he noticed, was ajar, as was the door to Peter’s room where the girls were sleeping. He swore. Water sloshed onto his hand; he set the glass down and reached for his shoes. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Ellen’s gone to the roof to talk to the moon. She does that sometimes. Listen.”

He did. Donna had left the kitchen window cracked to let the apartment breathe. Outside, wind slipped between fire escape bars and kicked cans down the street. Above its whistle he heard singing.

He started to say, she’ll wake the neighbors, or, people are trying to sleep. “She’s good.”

“Yes,” Claire said. “I thought she made it all up at first: the moon and the prayers. I had the same dreams, but that’s all I thought they were. She was lonely. I thought she was cracked—she couldn’t handle him, she couldn’t toughen like me or hide like Hannah. But she sings to the moon, and maybe the moon sings back. What do you make of that?”

“I don’t know,” Matt said.

“Mr. Adorne,” she said. “When will you go to work tomorrow morning?”

“I leave at half past three.”

“If there’s room in your cart, we can take deliveries together.” He did not answer at first. “Please,” she said. “I don’t know how long they’ll hold Corbin. We have stock to sell. I can pay for cart space if it’s at a premium.”

“I don’t—we have plenty,” he said. “You should rest a day or two.”

“Ellen sings. Hannah runs. I work.”

“I’ll wake you,” he said, “at quarter ’til.”

“You won’t have to.”

He washed the glass and left it on the drying rack and walked back across the carpet to his room. “Good night, Claire.”

“Good night, Mr. Adorne.”

Donna wrapped herself around him when he lay beside her. The room was hot and so was her skin, but he needed her heat, and let her hold him when most nights he would have nudged her off. He stared up into the darkness, thinking about his boys and listening to the soft wordless song through his open window.

*   *   *