I don’t know why I went; they weren’t expecting me. Or maybe I do know. Maybe I thought I might find Daniel there. Oh, not for real, of course. But maybe I hoped I could find some memories of him there. Something to take away the feeling of that awful meeting. Did they do it on purpose, to make me go away? Saskia had said I wasn’t welcome. “Andy?” I’d said, as Andy Jankowski and I walked, together, away from the chapel, across the snowy quadrangle. “Yes, Frances Leventhal?” I took a deep breath. “How—how did you know I wanted to leave that meeting?” I watched his profile closely. The furrow deepened on Andy’s brow. “They were all looking at you,” he said. “They were all talking about you. Not to you. I learned how to leave when that happens to me.” He suddenly looked very earnest and he turned toward me, though he didn’t meet my eyes. “It’s not hard. You can get up and go, Frances Leventhal. Nobody stops you.” With difficulty I said, “You showed me.
