“What about the house on Hartford Court?” Grant asked quietly.

“Are you moving back in with Sophie?”

I looked down at Sophie, who was carefully working her bottom coat button into its cloth loop.

“I haven’t decided what we’re doing with the house,” I said.

I took Sophie’s hand and walked toward the glass doors that opened onto Washington Street, leaving Grant and Margaret standing by the quiet elevators.

Cool late-autumn air met us on the broad stone steps outside the courthouse.

Sophie looked up at the cloudy Connecticut sky and squeezed my hand hard.