The art gallery glowed under soft yellow lights. Paintings of mountains, oceans, and faces lined the walls. The air smelled of coffee and polish. Mrs. Doris stepped in, her white gown flowing gently as she walked. Her calm face did not match the storm in her heart.

Josey was already there, sitting with her legs crossed, also dressed in a white gown. It was almost funny how both women wore the same color, like they had planned it. But they had not.

A waiter came by and set a small cup of coffee on the glass table between them. Mrs. Doris didn’t speak yet; she was busy looking at the...