“Stanford, grad school, through his roommate, Christopher.” A sun-bleached surfer dude who sat next to me in Econ Stats. “I liked Chris. But then Diya, my best friend, met him. She said it was love at first sight. A week after I introduced them, they were officially a couple. A week after that, we all went out, including Chris’s roommate, Trey. Trey asked for my number. Maybe it was just convenient.” I considered the possibility for the first time. “Two sets of best friends.”

Peep. Lai Fa hopped out of her cookie tin, pecked at a dark spot on the tile, then hopped back in and settled down again.

Bram leaned against the counter. “Is this her coop?”

“I have nests set up for her on every floor. She’s a roamer.” So far, the cleanup had been minimal and well worth the company. I laid the damp dishcloth over the back of the barstool next to me. “I want to apologize to you. I was rude earlier in the week. You were trying to help me, and I kept brushing you off.”

“The investment I pledged to Ludington’s is not conditional on the two of us spending time together.”

“I didn’t think it was.”

Bram watched me as closely as if he had to write a legal brief about me later. He didn’t say anything. He waited until I found the right words and managed to put them in the right order.

“When I first met you, you wore a wedding ring. And then all of a sudden, you weren’t wearing a wedding ring.”

“You figured I was an opportunistic bastard.”

“I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”

“It’s understandable. You don’t know me that well.” He picked up a bottle of water from the counter, then he put it back down. He rubbed a hand over his face. “My wife, Tessa, died two years ago.”

“I’m sorry. Sergei told me when he was here yesterday. But just that,” I hurried to add. “Nothing more. I wasn’t trying to pry into your private life, I swear.”

“It’s not a secret.” He picked up the bottle again. “She went on a girls’ ski weekend to Colorado and broke her leg. A blood clot traveled into her lungs on the flight home.” Bram’s tone was rough, as if the words had sandpapered a layer off his vocal cords. “She was gone by the time the plane landed.” He drank.

His wife’s death explained why he knew so much about grief. What he’d said when Violet had died, about the train of life running out of tracks, hadn’t just been a sentiment he’d heard somewhere. He understood loss on a personal level.

“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.