She had high cheekbones and styled dark hair, and she wore a fitted cream sweater that smelled of cedar oil and vanilla.

She stopped by the wall mirror to check her lipstick in the small oval glass before turning around.

“Where should I put my overnight bag?” Vanessa asked, looking at Mark without acknowledging me.

Mark pointed at the painted walnut coat tree near the foot of the stairs.

“Right there is fine,” Mark said.

“Put your coat on the top peg.”

I stood in the kitchen doorway, holding my warm coffee mug in both hands.