It rains on the fourth day of Eleanor's visit.
Not a gentle rain. A proper storm. Thunder rolls across the sky. Lightning splits the clouds. Rain hammers against the floor-to-ceiling windows like it has a personal vendetta against glass.
Eleanor loves it.
"Good weather," she announces, settling into her favorite chair with her knitting. "Rain washes everything clean. Cities need rain. People need rain. It reminds them they're not in control."
Sophie and Kevin haven't come today. The storm has kept them at Marlene's Corner, where they're apparently helping board up windows and move pastries to higher ground. Marlene has sent a text: "Stay dry. Stay safe. Cake tomorrow."
Lucas is in the study, pretending to work but probably just watching the ficus. His ears have been pink all morning. I thanked him for the coffee. Complimented his tie. Touched his hand when I reached for the sugar. Three separate ear-reddening incidents before nine in the morning.
