Chloe lifted the heavy serving spoon with both hands and held it out across the table to me.

Her thumb pressed so hard against the silver handle that the nail went white.

After dinner, the sun slipped below the rim of the McDowell Mountains, turning the sky the shade of a bruised plum.

I went out to the brick patio behind the kitchen, where the plastic lawn chairs stood in a neat row along the edge of the pool.

Caleb was crouched at the foot of the sycamore, holding an empty plastic cup upside down over the grass.