“He’ll listen because he’s afraid of what I’ll say next.”

She dialed, and her voice rose half a step, the way it did at the church bake sale.

“Gary, it’s Rachel Dawson.

Yes, the one with the sister.

That’s why I’m calling.”

I watched the truck through the windshield while she talked.

She gave it to him in four sentences.

The code, the lease with the fourteenth at the top, the furniture going in, the number.