The week after the foundation, the house settled into the rhythm it had known before the tour — coffee on the porch, the lake, the study, the ordinary turning of days that belonged to them. Aaron told Sophie about the letter to Akosua that Sarah had arranged, and she asked what it would say, and he told her he had written it himself, three drafts, and that in the end it had said what it needed to say in a page: the fellowship existed to carry her work, the committee had chosen her first, and the water between them had been waiting for her.
"I kept it to a page," he said. "Elena would have cut the second paragraph."
Sophie laughed, and the week went on.
