Chapter 28: What Tovia Knew
She arrived in seventeen minutes.
I know because I was watching the garden gate from the kitchen window — not anxiously, or not only anxiously, but with the specific focused attention of someone who has put the kettle on and is waiting for the thing that is coming and has decided that watching for it is more useful than pretending not to.
The gate opened and Tovia came through it the way she did most things — directly, without hesitation, the specific purposeful walk of a woman who has decided something and is moving toward the consequences of having decided it. She had her bag over one shoulder and her phone in her hand and the expression I had learned in two weeks of knowing her — the controlled version, the one that meant something significant was happenin
