She picked a yellow highlighter out of her tray and ran a bright line across a water statement.

“You left the swamp cooler going on high all morning,” she added.

“That pump costs twelve dollars a day when it runs nonstop.”

“I switched it off at nine,” I said.

“The timer was on manual,” she said.

“I fixed it.”

She picked up her phone and went into the dining room without a backward glance.

At six thirty, Daniel came in through the garage door with his leather briefcase and a tube of rolled-up blueprints.