“They planned around you not going.”

“Yes.”

She picked up the itinerary. Three adult passengers.

Two children.

Seat assignments.

Hotel confirmation.

Paid activities.

All arranged in advance.

“How long have they known?”

“Weeks.” She placed the paper down.

“And nobody thought to tell you.”

“Apparently not.”

Evelyn studied me.

“You’re very calm.”

“I’ve spent the morning trying to decide whether I’m entitled to be angry.”

Her expression changed.

“You’re entitled to feel whatever you feel.” I looked toward the stove.

“That doesn’t tell me what I should do.”

“No.”

She pulled out a chair.

“Then tell me what you want.”

I thought.

Not revenge.

Not a public argument. Not an elaborate surprise when Daniel returned.

I wanted to know whether I still had a life that belonged to me.

“I want to leave,” I said.

Evelyn didn’t smile.

Didn’t congratulate me.

Didn’t tell me it was overdue.

She asked:

“For a few days?” “No.”

“For good?”

“I think so.”

She looked toward the blue folder.

“Then we need to be careful.”

I nodded.

Arthur would have said exactly the same thing.