“She’s definitely not going back to live in the apartment Wellington provided, and we still have the place I originally leased for us, but it’s awfully far away from here. She’s only just turned eighteen, and after everything else … I just want her close,” she concluded in a soft, sorrowful tone. Her eyes cut briefly to mine as though she were worried about my reaction. “Already been working on it, babe.” She whipped around to face me, one eye smeared with half-removed mascara. “You have?” “Yeah. I made a call earlier today. You have two options, and I’m equally good with both. Amelie can stay right where she is in our place until she’s ready to go out on her own, or there’s a one-bedroom down on the third floor that recently opened up. She’d be in the same building but have some independe
