The doorbell rang. I padded down the long hallway in my stocking feet and gazed through the etched glass that framed the door.
I wasn’t surprised to see the violets. I was surprised to see Folana. I opened the door and let her in, then locked the door behind her.
“Portia.”
My lip quivered, and I firmed it. I took her hand and led her to the small parlor at the rear of the house.
“I never…I never told him…”
“He knew, my dear friend. He was a very smart man.” She saw my confusion. “He chose you, didn’t he?”
She held me while I wept, listened while I talked, and stayed with me until I slept.
In the morning, she was gone. 13
It was a miserable spring, summer, and autumn. However, life did what it always did; it went on. And I had no choice but to go on with it. I had my son depending on me.