On holiday, Jamie reserved three nights at a bed and breakfast which she’d heard good things about. Jamie checked in not too late in the afternoon, and her host, Mrs. Grayson, a somewhat plump, middle-aged woman in heels and an astonishingly short, black dress, led Jamie to her room. “Let me know if you need anything,” Mrs. Grayson said. “Dinner is at seven.”

Tired from her drive, Jamie set down her suitcase without unpacking and considered a nap. The room was a little warm, so she opened a window.

Next to the bed on the little dressing table stood a glass vase holding a pair of calla lilies. Jamie bent close and inhaled, remembering even as she did so that calla lilies had no scent. Too bad, Jamie thought. It’s kind of a flaw in an otherwise splendid flower. But then what if the scent were unappealing? She took another deep breath, almost a sigh, and lay down on the bed.