“For a second, when she offered the dinner, she sounded like the mother I wanted when I was six.”

I picked up Mariana’s phone from the bedside tray and unlocked the screen.

“Look at this,” I said, pointing to the call log.

Mariana slowly raised her head.

“What is it?” she asked.

I took out my own work phone, opened my job site log from that morning, and laid the two screens side by side under the reading light.

“Noah showed up at my pharmacy job site on his red bike at eleven fifteen,” I said, keeping my voice steady.