She was setting two bottles of prenatal vitamins on the Formica counter.

“These were twenty-two dollars at the pharmacy,” Sarah said, jingling her car keys in her jacket pocket.

“Put them in the cabinet before he asks to see the receipt.”

I didn’t open the cabinet.

I took my spare Buick keys out of my coat pocket, opened the ceramic flour jar next to the stove and dropped the keys right into the white powder.

“Why are you burying your car keys in flour?” Sarah asked.