I had thought he was taking an interest.

He had been taking inventory.

What undid me most, once I understood, was the innocence of how she’d carried it.

Abigail had not known she was reporting a crime.

She had woken up thirsty, seen a grown-up doing something that felt wrong in a way she couldn’t name, and filed it away with the quiet, careful watchfulness that children have and adults forget they ever had.

She could not have told you what a power of attorney was.