“Are you still upset about the contractor invoice?”

“Just focusing on the road,” I said.

“Mark is trying his best,” Eleanor said.

“We have to let the past stay in the past.”

We pulled into Mark’s driveway at four o’clock exactly.

The late-model sedan was parked near the closed garage doors.

The curtains were drawn tight across every window.

Eleanor walked up the concrete path holding the blue tote bag.