“Dad was quiet the whole morning,” she said.

“He left his briefcase in the hall and didn’t answer any calls.”

“Your father has a lot of business to straighten out this week,” I said.

She peered through the open front door into the main room, where the wooden packing boxes stood neatly along the baseboards.

“Are all of those boxes staying?” she asked.

“Every last one,” I said.

Caleb got up and brushed off his dusty knees with both hands.