“How long has she been out there?”

“She’s been sitting on those icy steps at least fifteen minutes,” Mary said, her hands flat on her knees as she pushed herself up out of her armchair.

“I saw Trevor close the back door when I went to draw my front drapes, but I figured he was taking out the trash.”

“Mary, please go and get her.”

“I’m pulling on my snow boots this second,” Mary said, the rustle of her heavy coat plain over the phone.

“My jacket’s right by the door, and I’m walking across the street right now.”