“Why did you draw all of them?”

“So you could see the house from Dallas.”

The refrigerator hummed behind me. Cracker wrappers covered the table. Three empty juice boxes sat beside the sink. A bowl held cereal softened by warm milk, because Mia had tried to make breakfast and then lost interest.

The neighbor with the dogs had never arrived. My grandmother contacted every nearby neighbor that morning. None had agreed to watch Mia. My parents had invented an adult to make their choice sound safer.

Grandma sat at the table with the note in front of her. For the first time, she seemed old. Not confused. Exhausted. Exhausted from watching the same family pattern repeat itself through another generation.

“You kept hoping Diane would change,” she said.