Chapter 15. Night Flight

The boutique delivery came on Friday evening, while Diana was sitting cross-legged on her bedroom floor, trying to fit ten days of her life into one carry-on.

Two men in sleek uniforms carried in three boxes and two garment bags. That was all. There was the gray coat, the nude heels, the pink mini dress, a second white sundress with yellow flowers and no pomegranate on it, and a small velvet box with the thin gold bracelet and its anklet. There was nothing she hadn’t chosen.

Tucked into the last box was a card.

The silk scarf is still in the store. I checked. I didn’t buy it. Please notice how much this cost me emotionally. — G.

She was still laughing when someone knocked on the door.

It was Eva, holding a bottle of sparkling cider and a stack of travel-size toiletries. She stopped in the doorway and took in the boxes, the garment bags, and the open suitcase.

“So this is the capitalist East wardrobe,” she said.

“It’s five things.”