Chapter 17: Hard Left

What I keep thinking about is the box — five cakes, no card, no note, and he's sure he knows who sent them: a woman who counts out exactly as much of a thing as a person needs and never says she did the counting. She meant it as help. What it gives him is something to spend, and spending is what the sky notices. She will never know. Would you want to know, if you were her?
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