Chapter 6: Her Mother's Coat

By Tuesday morning the video had two hundred thousand views.

My mother called at 7:15, before my shift, and I answered in the stairwell of the hospital.

"Virginia."

"Hi, Mom."

"I saw a thing on the internet. And Edgar was at my door last night with a lemon cake."

I closed my eyes.

"He told me it was a misunderstanding," she said. "He said you got upset about some silly photo."

"It wasn't silly. He was on a rooftop with Mallory."

"Mallory is like a daughter to me."

"I know."

"And Edgar has been to every Thanksgiving for ten years. He drove me to the dentist when I had the root canal."

"I know, Mom."

"Come to lunch on Saturday. We can sort it out."

"No."

The word came out so quickly it surprised us both.

"I'm not coming to lunch," I said. "I love you. But I'm not going back to him, and I need you to stop letting him in the house."

"Virginia, he's a nice boy."

"He isn't," I said. "Please trust me."

She went quiet for a long moment.

"We'll talk later," she said, and hung up.

I leaned my forehead on the cold concrete wall.

At 6:30 that night I was on Willem's front steps, eating a cheese sandwich off a paper towel, while he nailed a window frame to the brick above me.

"You're allowed to rest," he said.

"I'm resting."

"You're checking your phone every four seconds."

"I'm resting in an organized way."

He came down the ladder with the hammer in his belt, and I held out half of the sandwich.

A black sedan rolled down the street and stopped at the curb.

I knew it.

It was Edgar's car.

The passenger door opened, and my mother got out.

She had her good coat on and her church scarf.