The driver drops us off in front of my stoop, and I grab my mother’s bag. The two of us head inside. My mom offers to make me her famous corn chowder for dinner but, seeing that I have almost nothing in the refrigerator, agrees that ordering pizza might be best. When the food comes, she asks if I want to watch an Evelyn Hugo movie, and I almost laugh before realizing she’s serious. “T’ve had the itch to watch All for Us ever since you told me you were interviewing her,” my mom says. “I don’t know,” I say, not wanting to have anything to do with Evelyn but also hoping that my mom will talk me into it, because I know that on some level, I’m not yet ready to truly say good-bye. “C’mon,” she says. “For me.” The movie starts, and I marvel at how dynamic Evelyn is on-screen, how it is impossible to look at anything but her when she’s there. After a few minutes, I feel the pressing urge to get up and put on my shoes and knock down her door and talk her out of it. But I repress it. I let her be. I respect her wishes. I close my eyes and fall asleep to the sound of Evelyn’s voice. I don’t know when exactly it happens—I suspect I made sense of things when I was dreaming—but when I wake up in the morning, I realize that even though it is too early yet, I will, one day, forgive her.