Marcus shifted in his seat. “Boss, there’s more.”
“There always is.”
“I accessed the public records and spoke with someone at the resource center. Evelyn doesn’t hide. She’s known in the neighborhood. People trust her.”
I almost smiled, though there was nothing funny about it.
“She always wanted to help people.”
“I know.”
“Does Julian work at the same clinic?”
“No. But he volunteers at the resource center on weekends. He helps with medical referrals and children’s health screenings.”
I turned toward the window.
The image formed too easily: Evelyn laughing with him while he carried the children inside. Julian kneeling to zip Lily’s coat. Julian answering the phone and calling Evelyn his wife.
A life that had continued without me.
Perhaps that was what I deserved.
The car stopped outside the Fairmont Street address just after four. The rain had thinned to a mist, and the brownstone stood between two narrow buildings with bright window boxes and bicycles chained to the railings.
