Trevor stood at the granite kitchen island in a clean navy wool sweater, setting down a heavy ceramic mug next to a clear glass vase of six white lilies.

“I grabbed these from the florist on Perimeter Drive the minute they unlocked at seven,” he said, coming toward me with a quiet, comforting smile.

“I knew you’d be completely wiped out after that emergency flight back from Munich.”

I sat down at the little pine table in the corner, looking past the cut flowers at his smooth, composed face.

“Where’s Sadie?” I asked.