“It was disconnected.”

“I changed it during the transfer.”

“I know that now.

I didn’t know then.”

I stared at the table.

It was a modest oak table with a few pencil marks near one corner.

Someone had written the word MASON on a green sheet of construction paper taped to the refrigerator.

I wondered how many breakfasts had been eaten here while I was halfway around the world convincing myself I had left nothing unfinished.