Chapter 19: Ida Beaumont Confesses to Her Daughter

The kitchen smelled of coffee and the particular cleanness of a woman who had been awake since before it was reasonable to be awake, which Claudette knew the way she knew most things about her mother — not from being told, but from years of paying attention to what wasn't said.

She had been sitting at the table for twenty minutes when Ida came downstairs.

Her mother stopped in the doorway. Just for a moment, barely a hesitation, the way a person stops when they walk into a room and find the furniture has been moved — everything recognizable, nothing in its expected place. Then Ida crossed to the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee and did not turn around until she was ready.