Chapter 13: The Gray Suit

"Han," Declan said, and held out both hands. "You said six. I thought, why make you wait?"

I looked at the woman beside him.

She was about forty, with tidy gray hair, a leather case on her shoulder and the folder against her chest.

"This is a notary," Declan said. "She works in my building. It's only a signature, sweetheart."

"Come in," I said. "Both of you. It's cold."

Behind them, at the bottom of the hill, the boatyard light was already on.

I did not look at it.

Frances stood in the front hall with a dish towel over one shoulder.

She saw my face, and she said, "I'll put the kettle on," and went away without a word.

I led them into the dining room and sat at the head of the long table, in my mother's chair.

The woman in gray opened the folder and set out two stapled documents and a pen.

"This first one moves the Tern House into Mr. Vesey's name," she said. "I'll witness your signature."

"And the second?" I asked.

"A statement of your doctor's. For the record."

Declan pulled out the chair beside me and sat, close.

"It's only so everyone's protected, Han. You've been so fragile."

I picked up the second paper.

It was a letter on a clinic's letterhead, dated three weeks ago.

It said that Hanna Vesey had been seen by video visit and diagnosed with severe depression and grief-related instability.

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