“He spent thirty years keeping it clean.”

“Brandon has actual degrees in finance,” Chloe said, turning her back to me as she scraped a spoon around her yogurt cup.

“You fix diesel engines and move crates.”

At six thirty, Victoria walked into the kitchen in a tailored cream sweater and full morning makeup.

Her left hand turned the empty diamond ring setting on her finger, a tight, mechanical habit that made a faint metallic click against her gold wedding band.

Brandon followed two steps behind her with a thick binder with gold vinyl tabs tucked under his heavy forearm.