On the back, in the same pencil, in the same sloping hand, there are four words.
***Ask Eunice. She’ll say.***
He wrote that to himself in the March of 2026, before any of it, before the first time he walked out of Rossiter’s without paying.
He had already worked out what was happening to him, and he had already decided who he was going to ask, and he put her name on a piece of paper in his own coat pocket so that he would not forget.
Then he waited.
I found it on the fourth of March and I read both sides of it.
May you like
I went over to that house in the April with it in my hand, and I let him be the one to say I know, Eunice — and then I did what I was told and kept it between us, which is not what he asked for either.
