I smoothed the top of her dark hair and tucked a stray lock behind her ear.

“Nobody’s ever going to touch this house again, Sadie,” I said.

She looked down at the round cutouts of dough lined up on the silver baking sheet.

“Did Uncle Douglas talk to Dad today too?” she asked quietly, her voice dropping at the end.

“Douglas talked to your father’s lawyer over in Dayton,” I said, keeping my voice even as I put the spice tin back on the wooden shelf.

“Your father is staying in Grandma Colleen’s little apartment on Elm Street until the court date in March.”