The kitchen clock ticked loudly on the wall above the refrigerator.

Five days.

I didn’t go upstairs.

I leaned forward on the wooden stool and held Emma’s abandoned strawberry swirl ice cream loyalty card under the kitchen light.

Then I set the pink card on the table and turned off the light.

The next morning, frost covered the front windows of Miller’s Corner Market.

I unlocked the back delivery door at exactly seven o’clock.

The metal hinges groaned in the cold.