“Then we’ll give him a box he can’t resist,” Edward said.

“A big, shiny one.”

At seven that evening, Lily was stretched out on the living room rug with a plastic microphone plugged into a gray handheld tape recorder.

Chloe sat beside her on the floor, waving a pretzel stick and trying to press the red record button with her thumb.

“Stop touching it, Chloe,” Lily said, pulling the recorder closer to her knees.

“This is for my fifth-grade oral history project.