‘Be right there,’ I said. Mind spinning, I tucked the sheet of paper into my pocket, then let Dusty out of his crate.

He bounded up the driveway and straight into Rachel’s arms.

As I walked toward her, I tried to make sense of the note in my pocket.

THIS ISN’T OVER

When was the last time I checked my mail? I tried to focus, to remember. Could this have been from Vera, trying to make me think it was from Sam, just like the other one?

Rachel turned, and I followed her inside.

‘Everything okay?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ I said instinctively.

Still smiling, she let Dusty down, then wrapped me in a hug that felt suddenly too tight. She wore red lipstick and an eggplant wool dress, but there were bags beneath her eyes. She looked older, and her voice sounded almost robotic. ‘I’m so glad you came over.’

‘Me too,’ I said as I sat down on her sofa, my voice cautious.

‘Can I get you some wine?’

‘Yes,’ I said. Between what Claire had said and the note I’d just found, I needed something to take the edge off.

In minutes, she was back, two stemless glasses in her hands. ‘I just got this good cabernet, and I’ve been meaning to open it.’ I could hear it, more clearly now, in her voice, the difference. Her words weren’t robotic, they were almost slurred, as if she’d been drinking even before I arrived. It hit me then, what exactly had changed – she was torn up about Vera. No matter what Vera had done, she’d still been Rachel’s friend.

She handed me a glass, then situated herself on the Eames chair. Dusty hopped into her lap. ‘To friendship,’ she said, lifting her glass to mine.

‘To friendship.’

We both drank, and my eyes flitted to her wall, seeking out the photo of Vera, but it was no longer there.

‘Well,’ Rachel asked. ‘How have you been, all things considered?’

‘Fine,’ I managed. ‘I mean, okay as I can be. You?’

She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.

Briefly, I wondered if I should tell her what Claire had just told me, but something stopped me. Rachel had lost her best friend because of a rumor, something that hadn’t even been true. A story that had been so damaging, it had led Vera to kill her own husband. The irony was too cruel to share.

‘You’re staying another month?’ Rachel asked.

‘Yes, I just paid my rent today.’

Her hand sank into Dusty’s fur, scratching him just where he liked. ‘It’s good, I think. So much has happened – it’s a lot to think about, just up and moving in the midst of it all. You’ll have to deal with our winter, though.’