I nodded back at him from my pew and felt the quiet rhythm of the service settle over me like a warm quilt.

The usher passed the brass offering plate down our row, and I dropped in my five-dollar bill without a second thought.

There was no reason to go back to Arthur’s office Monday morning and demand to see old metal file cabinets.

I would work my shift at the gas station, apologize to Carl for missing my Saturday hours and leave the church garden exactly as it was.

Mama was gone, the funeral was set for Tuesday afternoon, and it was time to let the past stay where it was buried.