Rose POV
Claire Mendez lived in a third floor walkup in Dorchester.
I hadn't imagined then that I'd be climbing her stairs with my husband.
James said nothing on the three flights up. He'd said very little since the hospital. He walked slightly behind me, which I'd noticed he did when he was thinking hard about something he hadn't decided yet.
I knocked on 3C.
Silence.
Then: "Who is it?"
"Rose Scott," I said, "We spoke this morning."
A pause long enough to make me wonder if she'd changed her mind. Then the sound of a chain being slid back, a deadbolt turning, and the door opened four inches.
Claire Mendez was younger than her voice had suggested. Mid-twenties maybe, with dark circles under her eyes and a grip on the door frame that was holding on rather than just resting.
Her eye
