Griet was older with nearly grown children herself when Johannes Vermeer died.

The sister of the new girl at the Vermeer house came running to Griet with the news. It was winter, cold and gray and windy. The rain poured down as Griet made a hot drink for the girl and let her sit by the fire to warm herself. Griet's oldest daughter came in, and then left again, busy taking care of her smallest sister.

Pieter and their son Jan were at the market, and would not be home for hours.

Griet wondered why Liesbet had come to her.

Once Liesbet had stopped shivering, Griet said evenly, "How is the family?"

Liesbet did not meet her eyes. "They are well. Carel and Reynier are in the military now."

Griet nodded. One of the girls who bought from Pieter mentioned that the war had been hard for Vermeer and his family, as it had been hard for everyone.

Liesbet continued. "He is to be buried in the Oude Kerk."

Griet nodded again. Catherina was Catholic, and Maria Thins had probably arranged it. The girl from the market had said that Maria Thins was still alive.

"In three days," Liesbet added.

Griet looked at Liesbet. "How is Madam Vermeer?"

Liesbet finally met Griet's eyes. "She has eleven children, and her husband is dead."

Griet nodded. Griet turned away and began the preparations for the evening meal. She listened to the rain thundering down. Liesbet finished her drink, and watched Griet for a time. Eventually, Liesbet stood and wrapped her cloak around her.

Griet asked her to wait, and left the kitchen. She entered the other room, told Hanne that she was going out, and led Liesbet out into the cold courtyard. They both were soaked through almost immediately, but Griet didn't notice and Liesbet didn't say anything. Liesbet followed Griet through the streets to the Vermeer household.

Griet wasn't surprised when Maria Thins opened the kitchen door and let Griet and Liesbet in without a word. Liesbet's sister, who had taken Griet's place so many years ago, was in the corner with a baby. Griet thought the child looked just like all its siblings, and wondered which one this was. Maria Thins waited until Griet and Liesbet had removed their cloaks and then instructed Liesbet to begin preparing supper. She said nothing to Griet.

Griet did not wait for Maria Thins' permission, but instead went into the main room. Catherina was standing next to the table. A body lay on it, covered in cloth. Griet did not have to ask. Catherina did not look up, and rather than interrupt Catherina, Griet left and made her way to the small attic room.

The steps were as she remembered, but the hallway seemed slightly smaller. The room was not as clean as she had kept it, but the light was the same. There was a canvas on the easel, and Griet pulled back the cloth to look at Vermeer's last painting. It was Liesbet's sister, dressed in lush colors, staring at the viewer blandly. She did not glow, although her dress did. Griet covered the painting.

She stood in the room for a long time, watching the light fall on the corner where she had once stood, before leaving to fetch water and some rags. Maria Thins, Liesbet, and one of Vermeer's many daughters watched her make her preparations, but did not move to comment or stop her. Griet did not speak either.

She cleaned the attic carefully, placing everything back exactly where she had found it. Vermeer would never return to his paintings, but she would not betray him this.

When Griet was finished, she went back downstairs. The front room was empty; Catherina was gone. Griet could hear Maria Thins in the kitchen. The rain had stopped. Griet closed the door quietly, and crossed the room to stand next to Vermeer's body. She looked down at the sheet for a long while.

One of the boys came home, and gave a shout. A woman in the kitchen shushed him. Griet grasped the sheet, and pulled it back just enough to see Vermeer's face. He was still, his eyes closed. Griet looked at his face, trying to see the intensity he had shown when painting her. He remained still despite her attention. Griet listened to Maria Thins directing people in the kitchen.

The clock behind her gave a chime, startling Griet. She did not know how long she had stood looking at Vermeer. She leant down and gently pressed her lips to his, and then replaced the sheet. She left the room, walking as silently as she could, and passed through the kitchen, not looking at anyone except Liesbet; she smiled at Liesbet, who was now holding the baby, pulled on her cloak, and pushed open the door.

It was still cold, the wind picking up, but it had stopped raining. Dusk was falling, and Griet would have to hurry to arrive home before Pieter and Jan.

Before she could open the outer gate, Maria Thins called to her.

"He was a very good painter."

Griet turned to the other woman and did not answer.

"He loved his family very much, but he loved his paintings more."

Griet clutched her cloak closer and watched the lights flicker in the kitchen: Liesbet with the baby, Liesbet's sister stirring something over the fire, Catherina crying in the corner

"He was a weak man," Maria Thins said, "as men are weak. But he loved his art, and he loved his paintings."

Griet met Maria Thins' eyes. The wind circled the courtyard, picking up speed and tugging at Griet's skirts. Maria Thins turned to go. Before Maria Thins could close the door behind her, Griet spoke.

"Thank you."

Maria Thins paused but did not reply. Once she was gone, Griet left the courtyard.

Pieter and Jan returned before she did, and Hanne and Jan told stories throughout the evening meal. Griet knew that Pieter had heard about Vermeer's death, but he did not say a word.

Late that evening, after the rest of the family had gone to sleep, Griet pulled out the piece of blue cloth, and looked at the pearl earrings. She picked one up, and held it tightly, and waited for the sun to rise.