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Nora’s Point of View
Real foot traffic filled the gap Auntie left behind. A tourist asked a jogger for directions. Pigeons landed on the bench where the couple had been. A breeze moved the striped awning.
Ordinary. As if none of it had happened.
I would never consider anything ordinary again.
My phone rang.
Wren.
“Are you okay, Nora?”
“You saw?”
“Of course I did. I’m angry with you, but I still love you.”
“I love you too.”
“It was Auntie. I saw her approach your table.”
“I sat directly in front of the CCTV deliberately.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“Did you see Taylor, Wren?”
“Yes. At the memorial. CCTV again. I tracked his running route.”
“Good.”
“Auntie—”