A surprising fact emerged as he worked: Marian’s neatly packed overnight bag had been tucked behind a heavy exercise bench in the basement.

Lucas had placed it there because, he said, it was out of the way.

“Her medication log was inside,” I told him.

“She needs access to that.”

His face tightened.

“I didn’t know.”

The phrase was beginning to sound thin.

“You didn’t ask,” I said.