Lunch arrived at one o’clock with the same ordinary precision as the coffee.

Victoria made sandwiches and set three plates on the island. She did not ask for help. She did not raise her voice. She simply arranged the food and the water glasses and the napkins like the three of them were still capable of sharing an ordinary meal inside the full shape of the secret. Elena sat on one of the stools. Marcus sat on the other. Victoria remained standing on the opposite side of the island, eating slowly, her eyes moving between them with the same deliberate calm.

“I was thinking about the housekeeper,” Victoria said after...