dropped a storage bin at Lily’s apartment, smiling as if there was something I was expected to understand. I had understood then; apparently she did now.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“Thank you.”
“That was enough.”
Lily looked at the laundry. “Do you hate her?”
“No.”
She was surprised, so I explained.
“I hated what she participated in.”
“That sounds different.”
“It is.”
“Dad says she knew he was married.”
“She did.”
“So why don’t you hate her?”
I folded a sweatshirt. “Because I’m tired.”
Lily laughed, and I
