“The curtains?”
“Her treatments made her sensitive to light,” he explained. “She also didn’t want anyone seeing how much weight she had lost.”
“And the pharmacy contact?”
“She asked me to change it.”
Shame rose inside me.
Every suspicious detail had an explanation.
The groceries.
The medicine.
The boxes.
The closed curtains.
Even the empty porch.
Still, one question troubled me.
“Why did you close the curtain every time I waved?”
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Owen looked at Marjorie.
His expression softened.
“Because she cried whenever she saw you.”
Marjorie covered her mouth with one hand.
“I knew I had lied to you,” she said. “You had treated me with more kindness than many people in my own family. Every time I saw you, I wanted to tell you everything.”
I reached for her hand.
“You didn’t owe me an explanation about your past.”
“I owed you honesty.”
