“Yes, Emma,” I said.

“Grandma’s gone.”

Emma put her green crayon down on the edge of the pad.

“Do we ever have to go back to her big house again?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

“We’re staying right here.”

I stepped inside, shut the heavy wooden front door, and turned the brass deadbolt until it clicked into place.

I turned back to the brightly lit living room, where Emma was smoothing out her paper.