I picked it up, pressed the side button to turn off the display, and set it on the counter beside the sink.

The paper lottery slip stayed on the wooden kitchen table inside its clear plastic sleeve while the house grew quiet around me.

I left the kitchen lights off and sat by the window until dawn broke over the roofline of the neighbor’s garage.

At nine o’clock, sunlight fell across the corner of the heavy oak desk in the small upstairs spare room that Mark called his home office.

The homeowner’s insurance policy was due for renewal at the end of the month, and the local agent had called twice asking for the parcel number on the property deed.