They made their way back to their hotel, cinnamon cheeked and watery eyed. Later, Eby and George were going back out for dinner. Getting lost in Amsterdam during a snowstorm was exciting because of its danger. Buildings began to all look the same, snowbanks hiding storefronts and sometimes entire streets. She and George had once had to find refuge in a strange family’s home overnight. The family didn’t speak English, and she and George didn’t speak Dutch. They’d played games with the children and slept on the kitchen floor. It had been wonderful. But Lisette had been beside herself when they’d finally showed up at the hotel the next morning.

That afternoon, Lisette went up the stairs to her room while Eby and George stopped at the front desk for their mail. They’d spent enough time in Amsterdam that their Paris letters were catching up with them, and it was always Eby’s least favorite time of the day. Eby took the letters to the small round sofa in the lobby, while George, as he did every night, asked for food to be delivered to Lisette’s room, even though she never ate it. When she got hungry enough, Lisette would sneak into the manager’s kitchen early in the morning and stealthily make something, leaving sugar-crusted palmiers and cracked bread for the employees to find later, convinced the feast was made by elves.

A letter from Eby’s sister, Marilee, was on the top of the stack.

Resignedly, Eby opened it.

Eby,

Surely you’ve heard by now. Mama said she wrote. Everyone has written. It’s been two weeks since Talbert died. Where are you? Why are you being so selfish? Mama has tried to call, but that stupid hotel where you’re staying acts like they have no idea who you are. Now you’re forcing me to write to you, when I can barely even hold a pen. What do you want me to do, beg? I need you, Eby. My husband is dead and I don’t know what to do. Quinn won’t stop crying. She doesn’t understand why her aunt Eby isn’t here when everything is falling apart. You need to be here. Talbert died in your house. This is your fault. Come home and make it right.

Marliee