I started the car and backed out of the angled parking space.

We drove back to the Clara farmhouse without switching on the radio, letting the silence sit between us.

At one o’clock I stood in the middle of my study at the farmhouse and took off my tailored linen pants.

I unbuttoned my expensive silk blouse and folded it neatly over the back of my leather reading chair.

The room was completely still.

I picked up the gray thrift-store shirt and slid my arms into the sleeves.