In other words, not logging acquisitions and editing copy. Evie knew he was right. There was no reason for her to do what her staff could do. Still, she felt a pang of regret later after she handed the tape over to Maia to digitize and transcribe.

Suddenly, Evie had time on her hands. She paid a brief visit to the Great Hall. Seared in Memory was nearly complete. Some of the pictures she’d taken in the bowels of the Empire State Building had been blown up and mounted. She used her shirtsleeve to wipe a smudge off the Plexiglas over one of them. Then she returned to her office. She checked through her e-mail. Proofread their latest press release, even though it didn’t need proofing. Sent an e-mail asking Maia to add Mrs. Yetner to the list of people invited to the opening and to make sure a VIP ribbon got affixed to her name tag. Then she tucked one of the engraved invitations into her bag. Even if Mrs. Yetner turned out to be too weak to attend, she’d have it as a keepsake.

Finally she sat down to work on a half-finished strategic plan. But her attention kept wandering. Higgs Point. Known to the Siwanoy as Snakapins, land between two waters. It had passed from Finn’s great-grandfather to Mrs. Yetner’s father, who’d chopped it into narrow lots where he’d built modest houses and sold them off. Now, one by one, houses were being leveled.

Evie logged on to the website that gave the Historical Society direct access to the city’s property rolls. She typed in her mother’s address first. A little hourglass blinked a few times, then was replaced by a three-digit BBL number—borough, block, and lot. She entered that number in the Search Deeds box and waited while the system worked.

A list of deeds for the lot came up, the oldest one dated 1925. Evie held her breath as she scrolled through the list. The house had changed hands nine times since then but—Evie exhaled with relief—her mother, at least according to the City of New York, still owned it. The current deed was dated 1980. It had last been updated in 2002, the year her father died.

But what about Soundview Management? Had they succeeded in taking over other properties? Evie changed the search criteria and typed in “Soundview” as well as her mother’s zip code. Up came a list of about a dozen properties. She selected them all and clicked Map.

A map of Higgs Point flashed up on her screen with a dozen virtual pushpins highlighting those addresses. As she sent a copy to the printer, she realized how late it was. She was due at the hospital soon. She grabbed the printout and took a quick glance as she rode down in the elevator. As she’d suspected, Soundview Management owned both properties where houses had been demolished up the street from her mother’s. They owned more lots along Neck Road as well, most of them on the water. Evie stuffed the printout into her bag to examine more closely later.

Chapter Fifty-three

Evie spent the afternoon at the hospital, sitting at her mother’s bedside and quietly free-associating. Talking. Singing. Though she had no idea whether her mother registered a single sound she was making, she rattled on about the new exhibit, about Mrs. Yetner’s incredible story of survival. For some reason that made her think of Disney World. The Haunted Mansion. From there, to the hotel they’d stayed in on a family trip. The only family trip they’d ever taken, though Evie didn’t say that.

“Remember the slide at the pool?” Evie gently pressed the back of her mother’s hand. The skin was mottled, covered with angry purple blotches and as cool as bedsheets. “You slid down on a dare, and when you hit the water, you nearly lost your bathing suit top. And remember how Ginger freaked out when Chip and Dale tried to sit down with us at breakfast in the restaurant? And you’d paid extra for that?” In a squeaky voice, she sang softly, “I’m Chip, I’m Dale. We’re just a couple of cwazy wascals.”

Minutes ticked by as Evie shared more random memories. She sang the lullabies and nursery rhymes she’d learned from her mother before everything at home went sour and boozy. She laughed. She cried. She surprised herself with how many good memories there still were to savor. It was time—past time, really—for her to let go of her anger and give herself permission to be her mother’s daughter without being afraid that she was going to turn into her.

“I love you, Ma,” she said.

But her mother just lay there, mouth open, each breath rattling in her throat. The numbers monitoring her vital signs didn’t go up and they didn’t go down. They just stayed stuck in place, and Evie felt the same way.

She was thoroughly drained by the time she caught the bus to Higgs Point. It was nearly dark, and Evie leaned her head against the bus window, feeling caught in a kind of limbo as familiar landmarks floated past. How many more times would she have to make this trip past that street corner, sit at this red light? When her mother died and the estate was settled, there’d be no reason to return.

As she walked from the bus stop, she realized she’d actually miss the neighborhood. Not so much sleeping on a mattress in the middle of her mother’s still rank-smelling living room, but there was something special about Higgs Point. Where else in New York City was there both a saltwater marsh and a view of the Empire State Building?

Sparkles already had its outside lights on when Evie got there. She paused at the window to catch a glimpse of Finn, standing at the register and talking on the phone. She didn’t go in. She wanted to get to Mrs. Yetner’s before dark and tell her how excited everyone was about making her story part of the exhibit. Plus Finn had promised her dinner—she didn’t want to keep showing up and make him think she was overeager.

Brian’s Mercedes was parked on the street in front of Mrs. Yetner’s house. The pile of lumber in the driveway had grown. Evie rang the bell. Almost immediately Brian opened the door. Before Evie could say anything, he said, “She’s not feeling up to visitors.”

“Is she all right? Can I do anything?”

“Let her rest. I’m afraid she’s weaker than we expected her to be.”

Evie heard a cat meowing. “I brought her an invitation to a gala where she’d be the featured guest. I could just pop in and deliver—”

“I can take that for her.”

Brian reached for the card, but Evie held it back. “Thanks. I’d like to deliver it personally. It might even cheer her up.”

“Well, now is not a good time. I said she’s resting.”

“I’ll come back.”

“You do that.” Brian was closing the door when Ivory squirmed out through the opening and streaked across the lawn and around to the back of the house. Without thinking, Evie dropped her bag and took off after her, arriving just in time to see the cat slip under her mother’s back porch.

Evie turned around, expecting to see Brian chasing the cat, too. But it seemed Evie was on her own with this particular rescue mission. She crouched and peered under the porch. It was so dark she couldn’t see anything.

“Here, kitty,” she said. She made some kissing sounds. “Come out now.” Kiss kiss kiss.

After a few minutes of that, it was clear that Ivory was determined to stay hidden. So much for Mrs. Yetner’s claim that Ivory wouldn’t know what to do with herself outside. What Evie needed was something nice and smelly to lure her—like one of those empty cans of cat food she’d collected from her mother’s kitchen. Plenty of them had what a cat might consider tasty bits still stuck to them. She’d thrown those cans into one of the already full garbage bags, so she could probably retrieve a few without too much digging around.

But which one were they in? she wondered as she stood contemplating the five bags of garbage she’d forgotten to put out at the curb for garbage pickup. Even closed they exuded a nasty smell.