You cannot.”

She reached me at the threshold and took my wrist.

I let go of the handle.

We moved away together.

I was shaking so badly that the first step down felt deeper than it was.

Ruth kept hold of me until we reached the pavement, then guided me farther from the house.

There was no second argument about a purse, a folder, or how quickly I could get something.

Once she was beside me, I could hear the foolishness of the argument I had been having with myself.