“Thanks for the food. You didn’t have to do it,” Rose says. “I could have run out and done some grocery shopping. But I’m glad you did. My ability to leap over tall buildings at a single bound has been compromised. By the flu—I guess.”

“You’re not going to like this,” Mel says. “Dad sold your car.” Before Rose can say anything, Mel adds, “Dad’s super efficient. He said cars lose value when they sit around and nobody drives them.” Mel leans her elbows on the counter.

“Careful of broken glass,” Rose says. She points to the window. “That’s how I got in without a key.”

Mel’s smooth lips crimp slightly. “There wasn’t another way?”

Rose can tell the girl is worried that Gigi is making bad choices again.

“I talked to Marion,” Rose says.

“Your sister with eight computers and a zillion cats?”

“She talked me into going back to Longwood and working this out.”

“Hooray for Great-Aunt Marion!” Mel crows. “I’ll call Dad. You’ll want backup.”

“Let’s wait until tomorrow. I want to sleep without diapers and shower by myself a few times before I take the plunge. Lots of loin girding on my part. You can’t imagine how surreal this has been. I feel like I fell into a rabbit hole that turned into a Hitchcock movie that’s being played backward.”

“I’m sorry, Gigi.” Mel looks so sad for her, Rose is caught up on a wave of love. She hugs her granddaughter.

“Think of the stories I’ll have to tell when it’s over,” she says, letting Mel go.

After sunset, the house becomes aggressively dark. To push back the shadows without giving herself away, Rose lights a candle. She is sitting on the couch, one of the moving boxes serving as a table, eating the turkey-and-provolone sandwich Mel brought from Harris Teeter’s, when her cell vibrates. On the cardboard it sounds like a dying locust.

Mel.

“Hey, what’s up?” Rose says, phone to her ear.

“Turn on the TV,” Melanie says.

The remote is sitting on the base of the TV. “Which channel?” Rose asks.

“Nine. Local news.”

Rose pushes the power button. The television screen lights up. A nice-looking blonde in a lavender blouse is anchoring. Beside her is a photograph of Rose.

“… escaped from Longwood after assaulting a nurse. Rose Dennis is considered to be a danger to herself and others. The police say do not approach this individual, but do report if you see her. The nurse remains in ICU.”

The photograph of Rose was taken at an art gala in New York. Rose is in a black cocktail dress, laughing, a cigarette in one hand, a glass of champagne in the other.

“Cruella de Vil with a butch haircut,” Rose mutters.

“What did you do to the nurse?” Mel wants to know.