“I remember they played that same waltz at her funeral. The two little girls wore matching blue sweaters and black-watch plaid skirts. I thought that those clothes were so tiny they looked like they were made for a doll. The younger one slept in her father’s lap. This was when you were about twelve. Right. I didn’t want you to come to the funeral, although your grandfather did. He thought it would be a good lesson. I’m not sure in what.”

Stefan said, “I am.”

“Well, but there’s a lot of room between...” I was going to say the way you drugged and the way she drank...but there wasn’t. What is worse, to lose your best beloved or to have your best beloved do the very worst thing? I was a beggar at the same door of fate as the Hodges.

“That’s what this application is about, Mom,” Stefan said. “It’s one of the saddest stories in the world. Your friend fell so far.”

“I have to tell you the last part, Stefan,” I said. “It will help you do this project. Governor Hodge got up to read a part of ‘The Children’s Hour’:

“From my study I see in the lamplight

Descending the broad hall stair,

Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,

And Edith with golden hair.

I have you fast in my fortress,

And will not let you depart,

But put you down into the dungeon

In the round-tower of my heart.

And there will I keep you forever,

Yes, forever and a day,

Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,

And moulder in dust away...

“When he finished, he looked out helplessly at the crowd that filled every seat and overflowed out the doors of the church. As if he had just noticed all of us, he said, ‘I want... I hope that...’ He tried to summon his politician’s firm posture. But his legs wobbled and he could not walk away from the lectern. It was Papu who finally helped him back to his seat in the front row and even your grandmother was crying on my shoulder like a child.”

“Now, I’m messed up,” Stefan said. “And I have to be strong and calm for this person.”

There was a knock at the front door.

On my porch stood the dark-haired young woman I’d just seen in my memory, sobbing in the church pew at Alzy’s funeral—older now but undeniably the same person.

“Mom, this is Rebecca Broom,” said Stefan.

I held out my hand. “I was just talking about you,” I said. “But I didn’t know I was talking about you. It’s the strangest feeling. Like I woke up from a dream, but the dream was actually happening in real life.”

“We’ve met before.”

“I know you were...”

“I was Alice Hodge’s helper. I worked for her family.”