“That’s when the girl brought me here. Social said I couldn’t live on my own anymore. I don’t know why they said that. I kept a clean house, took my pills on schedule, and ate regular. I ate better than I do here. The food used to be better here, but they’ve been cutting corners. I think they’re not getting deliveries, so they have to make do. It’s the companies. The companies are in trouble. They don’t advertise anymore. They have to advertise.”

He tried to sift through the barrage for specific facts. A pattern was starting to form, and the picture was ugly. “Who called social? Your doctor? A visiting nurse? Home companion? Someone must have brought them in.” He shot a look at Lester, who frowned.

“No,” Miller said. “They showed up one day. Two women. Not very nice. Asked too many damn questions, so I told them off.”

“But they came back?” Ted asked.

“With the girl. She can tell you. She knows the whole story. Where is she? Where’s my girl?” She was becoming agitated again and beat her hand on the armrest of her wheelchair. From the cracked and worn look of it, she often did so.

“She’s right here, ma’am,” Lester said.

“Not her,” Miller spat. “This one’s useless. She changes my diapers. I want the girl. The girl with all my papers.”

Ted wanted to shake it out of her. Who was the damned girl? “Tell me about her, Miss Miller. The girl. With the papers. Legal papers? Was she a lawyer?”

“She was very young. And blonde.”

At ninety-three everyone under seventy-five must seem young.

“Am I very young?” he asked.

“No,” Miller said. “But you’re close. If you were a doctor, you would be. Are you a doctor?”

Ted was losing her. Pushing too hard. Direct questions threatened her. Frightened her. He looked to Lester for help.

“Have you finished your cake?” Lester asked.

She looked at her plate. She had taken only a few bites. “Oooh. No more for me. I still have plenty.” She carved a large bite with the edge of her fork and carefully brought it up to her mouth. No sooner was she chewing it than she began speaking again. “She was very pretty. And tall. For a woman, I mean.”

Ted gave Anora a questioning look. She nodded and said something that he thought he understood. “She was a lawyer,” he said. “Right?” Anora flashed him a tight smile. They were communicating. Ted wanted two minutes alone with the aide.

Ted knew of a tall blonde woman lawyer whose name was on the case file. Jackie. The only part of the description that Ted would have disputed was “very pretty.” But he allowed that his opinion on that subject might be skewed.