The Maritim
We were at the Maritim for some event I’ve half-forgotten. The lobby was all brass railings and glass—the kind of hotel that made you feel like you should be doing something important just by standing there. Wenke was better at that than I was. We found a quiet corner somewhere and sat without much to say, which was fine. I remember her face in the light from one of those big windows, and thinking how right she was in that space, like the hotel had been designed with her in mind.