The hallway smelled of pot roast and lavender hand cream.

The deed box on the floor of the coat closet sat with its lid cracked open, and Patricia bumped the closet door shut with her hip as she walked by.

Five places set with the good china.

Brandon sat at the head with his leather wristwatch turned face down on the tablecloth.

Brooke was already seated, and she gave me a nod that her mother couldn’t see.

“Give the baby to me,” Patricia said, and lifted him out of my arms before I could answer.