“You’re officially back in possession, Claire,” Miller said, stuffing the red paper into his leather satchel.

“The court order got entered at the county registrar’s counter twenty minutes ago.”

Grace came up off the sidewalk with a heavy cardboard box full of Bennett’s winter sweaters and the framed prints from his bedroom.

She smoothed her linen apron down over her lap before setting the box on the second wooden step.

“Where do you want the coat rack and the hall tree hooks?” Grace asked, looking up at the porch roof.

“Right back where they go, by the front hall closet,” I said.