“What was I thinking?” Leah finally said, and pushed her plate away. “You know I have that little storage pantry two doors down from here.” Tamar knew. “I’m going to put a mattress on the floor there for you – don’t tell me no!” Tamar didn’t say anything. “The key will be under the second flowerpot. So if you get sick of sleeping in Independence Park, or whatever you do, if the room service isn’t fancy enough, come to my pantry and sleep like a human being for a night. What do you think?”

Tamar thought through each of the possible dangers. Someone could see her entering the storeroom and inquire into who owned it – Leah wouldn’t give her away, of course, but one of the kitchen workers might say something by mistake, and they’d discover who she was and her plan would be exposed. Leah watched sadly at the wrinkles scrunching over Tamar’s white forehead and choked back a sigh. What’s been going on with this one lately?

pp. 50-51