A sound at the parlor door draws Wendy’s attention. Mary enters carrying a tray laden with tea. She sets it down and sits, and Wendy reaches automatically for the pot, pouring for both of them. It’s a moment before Wendy notices the uncharacteristic straightness of Mary’s posture. The weight of words hangs about her, and Wendy’s stomach clenches even before Mary opens her mouth.

“This isn’t a good time for this, but there won’t be a good time, really,” Mary says, blunt and forging onward. “A place has recently come up for sale that would be perfect for my shop. I know it isn’t the best time to open up a business, but I’ve saved up most of the money I need, and the location is too perfect to let go. I’ve already spoken to Ned, and he’s agreed to help me talk to the bank to get me a loan for the rest. I’m not officially giving you my notice yet. The place will take a while to get ready, but I just wanted you to know now rather than later. I like to get unpleasant conversations over as quickly as possible.”

Mary keeps her gaze locked on Wendy’s, her mouth twisting in a wry smile at her last words. Even now, Mary is needling her, and she knows Mary is right—unpleasant conversations are best gotten over with as quickly as possible, rather than leaving them to fester. At the same time, Wendy sees the brave face on the words, the fear behind them. She knew this day would come; it’s long past time, and yet she still can’t help feeling as though another part of her is being ripped away.

Wendy had been heartbroken enough when earlier this year Mary had expressed her desire to move into a small rented room of her own. She’d come to Ned and Wendy both with her plan, assuring them she could afford the rent and still set aside money to build the life she wanted for herself, everything balanced out. Mary living with them was always meant to be temporary. Wendy understood, of course she did—Mary had never had a life and space of her own, carried by her mother’s marriage across the sea, locked away in an asylum. Now Wendy thinks perhaps Mary had been trying to prepare her for this moment, making her departure by degrees so it would hurt less for both of them.

“It won’t change anything,” Mary had told her then. “We’re still family.”