“I was very fond of him, that’s all.” I dabbed at my eyes, freeing drops that clung to my lashes before folding the handkerchief and offering it back. He would not accept it, and a moment later our silence was interrupted by the nurse’s return. Clipboard still in hand, I thought she was startled by the scene and I hid his handkerchief in my fist.

“I’ll let you get on with it.” Harvey stood and I slowly followed suit. “But I’ll be back in the morning. In the proper morning.” He smiled at me, cupping the side of my arm and then quickly retracting his touch as though I’d stung him. The smile tapered and his gaze flitted around the room, then he was walking rigidly to the doorway.

“Harvey,” I said before he passed through it, the nurse staring wide-eyed at him. “Banker Parrish. What’s a reprint?”

His face was solemn when he turned back. “I’m used to speaking freely in the Vault. It was inconsiderate; I’m sorry.”

For a brief moment I thought he meant to have a seat again and answer the question I’d asked and others I hadn’t. Instead he addressed the nurse.

“I’ll return in the morning.”

And while she approached and he retreated, I could not imagine showing Harvey Parrish my memories or expect that he might appreciate the name I’d given myself. Besides his eyes and jet-black hair, he shared his father’s discomfort, no matter how well they spoke of me. As the nurse began her examination, the handkerchief Harvey’d given me dampened in my tight grasp.

NO. 2

  NO. 2  

For one evening in 1922, I was the toast of Montreal. At least Camille said so. The Mount Royal Hotel was debuting, and the Professor and his wife swept me into the starlit night with promises that the glamourous event would rival any I’d seen on the silver screen. In fact, they’d no doubt that the affair would be so significant as to find itself up there, and that I might soon be both in the theater as a patron and on the newsreel as a star. The thought was intoxicating.

Even for the sophisticated city, the hotel was an overwhelming sight, imposing against the night sky in a bold presentation that began with a street-long treatment of awnings and arched windows. It seemed as wide as it was high, the broad face broken into three. On the street below the breathtaking architecture, horseshoes clipped along, mingling with the automobiles that deposited their cargo beneath the blinding lights or else carried envious passersby on their way.