REBECCA’S POV
The first guest arrived at 07:03.
Gerald Marsh. Predictably early, the way he always was, Edmund had once told me that Gerald had been early to everything since 1987 and had no intention of changing. He came through the door in a well-cut dark suit with the particular ease of a man who had been to enough significant events that he no longer needed to perform attending them. He kissed my cheek. He held both my hands and looked at me the way Gerald always looked at people he actually liked, directly, without the glancing social attention most people offered.
“Rebecca,” he said. “You look wonderful.”
“Gerald.” I smiled and meant it. “I’m glad you came.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” He accepted the drink offered by the passing staff and looked around the room with the unhurried app
