Rebecca took a sip of the wine and was immediately infused with a great warmth and a sense of peace. Wine!

“Husband,” she said. “You may have heard of him, it was news in town at the time. Ruptured aneurysm. Age forty-eight. I have two daughters, seventeen and eleven.”

Daniel Economic’s brow furrowed immediately. He was sort of adorable when he did that; he looked like an overgrown Sharpei.

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

“Thank you,” she allowed.

“I know, that’s what everyone says. But really, I am so, so, sorry.”

“Thank you,” she repeated. It was what everyone said, but somehow he said it differently—there was something in the directness of his gaze, and in its softness, that made her feel like he really meant it.

He was looking at her very earnestly. “How are your daughters? How are you?”

“Okay,” she said. “I don’t know. Bad. Fine. Terrible, mediocre, fabulous. It depends on the day. It’s hard to read Alexa—she’s older, and she’s in a different situation. But Morgan, she’s only in fifth grade. She’s taking it hard.”

“Ohhh,” said Daniel. “Oh. Yes, I remember now. I know about your husband. Peter, you said?” She nodded. “I remember now. You should know . . . you probably know that I had your daughter, for Intro to the Stock Market. I didn’t make the connection. Does she have a different last name?”

“She does,” said Rebecca. “Thornhill. She kept my ex’s name.” She squinted at him. She’d had only three sips, but the wine was starting to hit her. Her legs felt pleasantly numb, her lips loose. “Now you go,” she said. “Your turn.”

“Sister,” he said. “Breast cancer, five months ago. She left behind a daughter, who’s almost thirteen.”

“Oh my God!” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m really so, so sorry. That shouldn’t be allowed to happen.”

“I know. It shouldn’t. But it did.”

“Older sister or younger sister?”

He took a deep breath; it was a breath that seemed to contain all of the sorrow in the world. He let it out slowly, deliberately. “The same age,” he said. “I’m older, technically, but only by seven minutes.”

“No! Oh, no. No. You were twins?”

Daniel Economics nodded. “We were really close. I was married, and divorced. I never had kids. Her family became my family. My niece feels like my own kid. They live in Boxford, so I see them a lot.” He shrugged. “It’s like a part of me died when she died.”

“Of course it is,” said Rebecca. “You were together from the very beginning.”