My family’s.

And that the dying man who’d handed them to me had known, with a clear and unsentimental eye, exactly which of his grandchildren would be able to do what needed doing, and exactly which of his children had made it necessary.

Chapter 6 — Behind the Portrait

That night, after my family had gone out to a dinner they were treating as a celebration, I let myself back into the dark house alone.

I did not turn on many lights.

I don’t know why — some instinct toward quiet, toward not being seen doing this thing, even with no one there to see.