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“I’m not that old,” said Adele when George suggested she move into the Rutledge house.

“Of course you’re not,” agreed George, but Adele knew when she was being coddled. “But it’s a big piece of property to take care of, and the house needs—”

“The house is fine,” snapped Adele. She wasn’t a helpless old lady, reduced to living with her child.

A few months later, her foot slipped off the edge of a stair tread.

She landed at the bottom of the staircase, breathless and bruised.

She watched with horror as her ankle ballooned.

Not broken, thank goodness. Just a sprain.

The doctor prescribed ice and elevation, which meant she had plenty of time to sit and think.

What if she’d been seriously hurt? Could she have dragged herself to the telephone?

Would she have had to wait for George to realize it had been too long since they’d spoken?

Would she have had to yell when she heard the mailman?

To hope he’d break down the front door and rescue her?

The indignity of these scenarios was unthinkable.

The better part of valor was knowing when to quit.

And there would be benefits. The biggest was spending time every day with Ruth and Ivy. And with George, who might need her if she tumbled off the high wire she walked with Frank Bridlemile. Plus, George lived in town. Widows in need of car repair wouldn’t have to drive far to reach her.

She’d hoped, once George had her own plane, that Vivian’s visits wouldn’t stir her up so much. But, as always, as soon as Vivian announced she was coming, George jittered around the house, cleaning everything in sight, even the things no one would ever notice.

“I don’t think she’s going to care if the drapes don’t get washed,” Tom said. Adele raised her eyes to the ceiling. He should have known better.

George, who had already washed and was now ironing said drapes, looked like she might throw the iron at him.

“You would never understand,” said George. “She’s so ... elegant now. So put together.”

“She doesn’t have a family to take care of,” said Tom. “She has time for that sort of thing.”

George glared at him, and he took a step backward. “I’ll run to the liquor store,” he said. “Always a good idea to stock up before Vivian gets here.”

Tom had made Adele welcome, told her to make use of the garage and driveway. He was always pleasant to her, but she’d noticed that he and George didn’t talk much. She often wondered if he knew about Frank Bridlemile, but either he didn’t or he was exceptionally good at pretending.

On Vivian’s first night in town, cocktail hour ran long and dinner ran late.

Adele fed Ruth and Ivy early and put them to bed.

George and Vivian, drunk, had wandered off to the kitchen.

Tom, also drunk, sat alone and morose in the living room.

Adele, not drunk, decided to call it a night.

She patted Tom’s shoulder and went to say good night to George and Vivian.

From the hallway she heard them whispering, not as quietly as they imagined.

“... what you must think of me, George. You never would have done it.”

“Don’t say that. We can’t know that.” George’s voice sounded thick and sloppy.

“No, I know you. You’d never give up your child. Never. You’re too good a person to do such a terrible thing.”

“I’m not good. I’m not. And you did not do a terrible thing. Because I love her. We love her. I can’t imagine my life without her.”

Vivian let out a sob.

George’s voice no longer sounded sloppy. It sounded desperate. “You were so brave. It was a good thing that you did. Because we love her. And you do, too, I know. But we love her. We love her. Don’t you see?”

Adele thought back to George’s insistence on delivering the girls in New York.

She struggled to recall when George first announced she was having twins.

Then realized that it didn’t matter—the details of the con were beside the point.

Vivian had given a child to George, and thus she had given a grandchild to Adele, who had absolutely no intention of relinquishing her.

Please don’t say a name—I don’t want to know which is which, she prayed as she crept back down the hallway.

This was one secret she hoped her daughter could keep forever.