“In a book about Indiana,” Chloe said, her voice sinking to a whisper.

“Are you going to live someplace with a porch?”

“Yes, I am,” I said.

“Can I come visit and bring my schoolbooks?”

“You’ll have your very own room with a bookshelf against the wall,” I said.

Chloe glanced back at the bright kitchen window, where Renee stood over the dishwasher with a stack of glass salad bowls.

“Dad said you were moving somewhere smaller,” Chloe said.

“Your father has no idea where I’m going,” I said.