Vanessa knocked on the back door.
She was holding a plate of cookies. Chocolate chip. Still warm.
“I made too many,” she said. “I thought you guys might want some.”
I let her in. I made coffee. We sat at my kitchen table. The same table where I’d sat a hundred times with Irvin and Maddie. Where we’d eaten spaghetti four nights a week the year money was tight. Where Irvin had helped Maddie with her chemistry homework, explaining everything twice.
Vanessa set the plate of cookies in the middle of the table. She took one. She broke it in half. She didn’t eat it.
She looked at me across the table.
She was smiling. But it wasn’t the friendly smile. It was a different one. Cool. Calm. Like a cat looking at a bird.
“Janet,” she said. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Of course.”
