He winced as though I’d slapped him.

Patricia grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the black car waiting at the curb.

Helen and I walked down the steps.

The baby had dozed off beneath the blue knit blanket, one fist curled up by his chin.

At the car, Helen loaded the stroller into the back and got into the passenger seat.

I laid the folder on the console and pushed the key into the ignition.

Walter’s old brass key dangled next to it, warm from my hand.