The screen door sighed closed behind them.

Headlights swept across the front window, and then the ambulance backed down the drive and the light left with it.

Seventy-two years, and I had never once been alone in this house.

There had always been a radio playing somewhere, or a cough from the back bedroom, or Mama calling from the kitchen to ask where I’d put her glasses.

Tonight the refrigerator kicked on, and I heard every bit of it.