My home wasn’t an evidence locker.

It was a place where I could rest.

Before leaving, I stopped by the antique shop where Lena had taken me after the separation.

On a shelf near the register stood a glass bowl with a pale green rim.

Its shape was nothing like my grandmother’s crystal bowl, and the color was wrong, too.

I bought it anyway.

At home I filled it with oranges and set it on the table beside the window.

I stood back and studied it for a moment.