I had exactly two protein bars, and as I studied them, I considered my employment prospects. They were not good. There was always a market for able-bodied worker bees, and I figured I could snag another job like that quickly. I also knew I’d hate it just as much as I’d hated working at Snapp.

I took the subway in to Manhattan, switching at Grand Central and heading north on a 6 train to the East Fifty-First Street Station. There was a Thraxton property on Park, a landmark of blue glass and studded steel that was supposed to look stylishly intimidating but mostly resembled a goth fishbowl. Two floors were corporate HQ, and the rest was a hotel. Caro had given me an employee pass years ago, and I stopped by on a semiregular basis—sometimes to say hi to my sister but always to stock up on food in the employee pantry. I wondered if the pass would be deactivated now that Caro was gone, but it still worked. I took the stairs up to the third floor. I was steps away from the pantry when I changed my mind and took another path, following the plush red carpet to Caro’s office.

The door was closed, but it wasn’t locked. I stepped inside but couldn’t seem to take a step beyond that. Caro’s office was painted in an azure blue that made it feel suspended in the sky, even though we were barely off the ground by New York City standards. The furniture was glamorous, of course. On one wall was a silver plaque from the Diotima Civic Society, surrounded by framed photographs of Caro with international dignitaries, interspersed with images of Teddy. My sister always looked perfect, never a hair out of place, at ease with presidents and royalty. I don’t know how she did it.

“It’s not the same without her, is it, Deirdre?” said a deep voice behind me.

I turned. Caro’s father-in-law, Theodore, was there, dressed in a black suit. His gray hair was neatly combed, and there was a baby-blue square in his chest pocket. Still, he had an unmistakable air of misery around him.

“I find myself walking by, or picking up the phone, and I’m surprised that she’s not here,” he added. “I have a funny voice message she left me, and I’ve played it a dozen times, just to hear her voice.”

I nodded. I wasn’t used to the idea that she was gone. I wondered if I ever would be.

“She sent me a bunch of family photographs recently,” I said. “Hundreds of them on a memory card.” I gulped and closed my mouth, remembering what else was on that memory card.

“Anything special?”

“Small things I’d forgotten. Shots of us in matching outfits that Caro probably wanted to burn.”