Evelyn reached across the red vinyl table and rubbed my shoulder, her fingers pressing gently into the fabric of my coat.

“You haven’t eaten a full meal since yesterday, Claire,” she said.

I reached into my coat pocket, took out my brass spare house key, and set it next to her porcelain teacup.

“I need you to keep this key at your house,” I said.

Evelyn looked down at the brass key lying on the laminate tabletop.

“Did Mark say something else to you this morning?” she asked.

“He gave me until five o’clock on Sunday to move my things out,” I said.