Iris's POVWe left Janet's at four thirty.She walked us to the door with the specific, unhurried quality of a woman who had been waiting a long time for a visit and was not going to rush the ending of it.At the door she looked at Adrian."Come back," she said. "Not for the notes. Just to come back.""Yes," he said.She looked at me."She would have liked this," she said. "The two of you. Together." She paused. "She would have made a specific face about it — the face she made when something absurd turned out to be exactly right." She paused. "I'd have given a lot to see that face one more time."I held that."What did the face look like?" I said.Janet almost smiled."Like someone who had been proven right about something they were afraid to believe," she said.The subway downtown.We sat beside each other.The car crowded with the specific, Thursday afternoon democracy of the city — students, workers, a woman with three bags of groceries, a man asleep against the window with the pra
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