But a few, like Rachel’s, had refused to succumb to the Manhattan makeover due to residents refusing to give up their rent-stabilized apartments. Their monthly payments were locked in at a rate lower than some paid to secure a spot in a parking garage.

Grant watched as Rachel used her key to let herself into the glassed-in vestibule of her building and check the mail. He pointed at the name tag affixed to the box his daughter had just unlocked. “Who is G. Fletcher?”

“Gretchen—a girl I went to college with,” Rachel answered.

She explained how Gretchen had gone to Norway two years earlier on a one-week vacation and had a fling with a then-married local TV newscaster; they were now living together in Oslo and expecting their first child.

“No way she gives up this place—not with what she’s paying.”

When told the amount, Grant completely understood it was a deal one couldn’t pass up, even if you lived in a distant country where half the year you couldn’t sleep because the sun never set.

“That’s why as far as building management is concerned, there’s a tenant—Gretchen-married-name-Fletcher—and I’m her sister back home after attending college at Oxford, where she picked up a bit of an accent.”

As they climbed the four flights to the walk-up apartment (Rachel considered it good exercise), she reiterated what she’d told him on the subway ride uptown.

“I absolutely can cancel my dinner plans. They’ll totally understand.”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort. I can use a quiet night to hear myself think.”

She used two different keys to undo a pair of locks, then opened the door.

“Make yourself at home.”

The entire apartment was maybe a touch bigger than his room at the London. It consisted of a living room with a designated “kitchen area,” a barely-able-to-squeeze-into bathroom and an adjacent bedroom the size of a tiny walk-in closet. Grant was happy to see that even though his daughter was living practically on top of herself, it looked quite comfy, and he told her as much.

Rachel took his bag and placed it on a small couch that rested beneath the only window. “It folds out easy enough. I’ve got a set of sheets and blanket tucked away in the bedroom closet.”

“I’m sorry to put you to all this trouble.”

“Really, Dad, it’s not a big deal.” She pointed at the fridge. “Help yourself to anything. There’s also a stack of menus in the top drawer—you can get anything delivered here within thirty minutes.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’m just going to get the bed stuff. Be right back.”

She took two steps and disappeared. The place was that small.