“Under the chair.”

“That was impressive distance.”

She smiled and held the carton more securely, as though demonstrating a standard I had failed to meet.

One ordinary choice beside an appliance did not settle what she felt on every other day.

There would still be room for the note, the hall light, a different hoodie, and a question she did not want to answer.

She did not have to become fearless to make this evening hers.

I put the bowls on the table.

Lily followed with the carton in both hands.

I opened the drawer for a napkin, then closed it again.

The family photograph and the obsolete key were in another drawer, where they could remain without directing dinner.

She climbed into her chair and picked up her spoon.

The freezer hummed behind her, steady and ordinary, as she set the carton beside her bowl.