The hall clock ticked over to two ten.

I walked three slow laps around the linoleum, stepping lightly so the creaky board by the refrigerator wouldn’t wake Nora all the way.

The pile of mail Jason had shoved aside when he dropped his truck keys six hours earlier was sitting on the kitchen table.

A gray window envelope poked out from under a hardware store flyer.

I sat down in the wooden chair, balancing both babies across my lap.

With my right hand, I worked the letter loose and pulled the page out through the torn edge.