“I can promise you, things will happen for the better. I’ve brought my computer, so I can show you how to scan for career opportunities here in your area.”

I take her to the job search website and give a small tutorial. The Milestone shows up with opportunities in housekeeping.

“I wouldn’t mind working as a cleaning lady. Do you think they’ll hire me? I hear they’re even building houses for their workers. And benefits, too, right? I’d love to get that job.”

I smile. Eve never advertises the connection between herself and Vincent. “I bet we can arrange something. I am friends with the owner.”

“You are?” Her eyes widen. “That man is a saint!”

“He’s a good man.” I try not to roll my eyes.

Sure, Vincent has done amazing things. But the man is not exactly warm and fuzzy.

“You’ll be with me every step, right?” She worriedly inches closer.

I sigh. “No, actually. I only have another week, so I’ll do the best I can until then.”

“But why?”

“I’m only here temporarily …” My voice trails off.

“That’s a shame. You seem so sweet.”

“Well, we’ll work together while I’m here. Let me just print out the application form for the Mile housekeeping staff. And then we’ll call and hopefully get an interview date.”

She nods vigorously.

Eve already told me that these women were looking for kindness plus strength. They want us to be kind and gentle, but they’re also in a sensitive place and need someone strong to trust, who they can hang on to. Who would have thought it would be me?

By four o’clock, I’m desperate for a coffee. I knock on Eve’s door. “Hey. Coffeemaker?”

“It’s here.” She lifts her head from a file, smiling at me in relief. “I am so glad you’re with me. I really wish you’d stay. I’ve tried to hire other girls, but no one is … you. So nice and friendly and thoughtful but also smart. Mary came in before leaving and told me how warm you were with the women who were in today.”

I flush from her praise, but it is what it is. I add water from her liter bottle of Poland Spring before adding a paper filter and scooping in the ground beans. “My apartment is sitting there, collecting dust. My parents are there. My … friends …” I try not to choke on the word.

I haven’t heard anything from any of them. It’s not really a surprise. We have nothing in common. All we had was our looks and our mutual enjoyment of shopping and parties. That kind of glue always stays wet.

“What about Slade?” She presses her lips together. “It’s obvious you guys have something going on.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” I swallow.

“Well, start talking.”

And so, I do—sort of. I tell her the general story from her wedding, the outline of the shooting, and skim through the drama without giving too much away. As much as I want to tell her every gritty detail, it would be a betrayal to Slade for me to give too much information about what I’m sensing about his internal life. And, anyway, what if I’m wrong? I’d be spreading things to his friends that might not even be true, and that wouldn’t be right.