I set my cup on the counter and wiped a ring of coffee off the quartz with my thumb.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“Nothing.

Forget it.” She set her cup in the sink.

“Call her work.

She might have run by the house before her shift.”

I carried my phone to the guest bedroom, where the signal was stronger.

The bed was made with the quilt Rachel’s mother-in-law had sewn, and the closet door stood open.