CHAPTER 27: LOVELY RITASITTING ON HER BED IN the studio (formerly garage) behind the Linnell Cottage, Rita Silva set down Ashley’s old iPhone.
Like an orange rind, it had been squeezed dry. You do a phone opposite to an orange, Vitor liked to say: you dry first, then you squeeze.
This sad orphan had gotten off easier than the other two smartphones on Rita’s pillow. She hadn’t looked for any contents it might have brought back to life. Her baby’s photos, messages, and downloads were private. She had been asked to recover the address book only, and that’s what she did.
”The best birthday present ever!” Ashley exulted, and gave Rita a big hug.
And off she ran, not even staying to type the list into her new phone. Just one number she wanted right now, and hurried out to contact . . .
Who
