I leaned against the wall.
“That makes no sense.”
“Maybe.”
“Evelyn liked Cassandra.”
“I remember.”
“She came to our apartment for dinner.”
“I remember that too.”
“Why would she block her letters?”
“I don’t know.”
“Call her.”
“I already did.”
“And?”
“She wants to speak with you directly.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
I looked through the doorway.
Cassandra sat on the floor between Luke and Violet.
She was laughing.
I lowered my voice.
“Does Evelyn know why?”
“Yes.”
Martin hesitated.
“She sounded upset.”
The next morning, December thirty-first, I called Evelyn.
She
