I reached the top of the landing and hugged my aunt, who peered closely into my face, as if I might be hiding something, and then released me.

“You don’t seem surprised to see me,” I said.

“I’m not.” Tita Rosa waved for me to follow her into the library, which was through a doorway by the front entrance. “Why shouldn’t you be here?”

“Because I live in New York.”

“Well, you know how things are.” Tita Rosa lowered herself carefully into a rocker. “Sometimes people are in one place, and then they’re in another. Is it true you’re divorcing your husband?”

“Yes, that is true.” I sat on the low couch, which my aunt had chosen over a bed for the last three years.

“He is a charming man,” the old woman said. “And you know, I don’t like charming men. But he is your husband. I feel I have to say that. Still, if God didn’t make annulments, who did?”

“Lucifer?” I ventured.

“We are Lucifer.” My aunt laughed. The maid, Beng, placed a tray with a bowl of ice, a bottle of Coke, and some glasses on the small table. “Aren’t you thirsty?”

I nodded, and my aunt nodded to Beng, who dropped some cubes in the glass and poured the Coke. Tita Rosa instructed Beng to make up the guest bed and to make sure there was a towel and some filtered water and a glass in the room.

My aunt’s long white hair was down around her shoulders, a rare sight, as in the day she always had it pinned into a bun. She was wearing a floral shift and beaded, black velvet slippers.

“Why are you still awake?” I asked.

“Me? I don’t really sleep. An hour here, an hour there.” My aunt reached over and began rubbing my arm. “It is so good to see you. I was worried about you. I love you so much. You know that. I pray for you every day, after my great-grandchildren and before your cousin Gina.”

“You pray for me before Gina?” I gave a wary laugh. “I really must be in trouble.”

“Yes,” my aunt said calmly. “Yes, you are.”

My aunt’s house was sliding into indolent decay, but its elegant symmetry and high ceilings and staircase made of wood felled from giant trees cast a spell that was deeply tied to its history.