She stood there, red-ringed eyes, mouth downturned, her white hair dripping with the thick April rain. “Seeing you brings it all back. Ten years, and you still haunt me.”

Salterman nodded, clenched his hands, and drew a deep breath. “I can’t help that. We, Jinny and I, were together a long time.”

“On and off,” she said. Her eyes lit momentarily. This was how she threw her barbs: short, well-targeted, utterly truthful, but it was her truth, not all of it.

“Yet, in her final moments, when certainty dawned, who did she turn to?”