Evelyn Hugo wants to know that I’m OK, that with everything that has happened, I will still be all right. In a moment of vulnerability, I find myself putting my arm around her. A second after I do, I realize that I want to pull it back, that I’m not ready to be this close. “T love it!” the photographer says. “Just like that.” I cannot pull my arm away now. And so I pretend. I pretend, for one picture, that I am not a bundle of nerves. I pretend that I am not furious and confused and heartbroken and torn up and disappointed and shocked and uncomfortable. I pretend that Iam simply captivated by Evelyn Hugo. Because, despite everything, I still am. kk * AFTER THE PHOTOGRAPHER leaves, after everyone has cleaned up, after Frankie has left the apartment, so happy that she could have sprouted wings and flown herself back to the office, I am preparing to leave. Evelyn is upstairs changing her clothes. “Grace,” I say as I spot her gathering disposable cups and paper plates in the kitchen. “I wanted to take a moment to say good-bye, since Evelyn and IJ are done.” “Done?” Grace asks. I nod. “We finished up the story yesterday. Photo shoot today. Now I get to writing,” I say, even though I haven’t the foggiest idea how I’m going to approach any of this or what, exactly, my next step is. “Oh,” Grace says, shrugging. “I must have misunderstood. I thought you were going to be here with Evelyn through my vacation. But honestly, all I could focus on was that I had two tickets to Costa Rica in my hands.” “That’s exciting. When do you leave?” “On the red-eye later,” Grace says. “Evelyn gave them to me last night. For me and my husband. All expenses paid. A week. We’re staying near Monteverde. All I heard was ‘zip-lining in the cloud forest,’ and I was sold.”