Eleanor looked unusually serious.
“Margaret,” she said quietly, glancing down the hallway, “can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” I replied, adjusting the tote on my shoulder.
Her voice dropped even lower.
“Do you know who comes to your apartment every Wednesday?”
For a moment I thought I’d misheard.
“What do you mean?”
Eleanor hesitated, clearly choosing her words.
“I …
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