It had brought me back through the front door that morning, but the door was no longer a place I needed to enter to prove I belonged somewhere.

I did not have to carry the key into the next home.

Robert opened a drawer and took out a clean cloth.

He placed it beside the wooden box in case I wanted to wipe away the dust from the photograph.

I used it on the box instead, then folded the cloth and returned it to him.

The baby blanket was soft and plain, with a narrow blue edge.

I laid it beside the box and smoothed the fold with the flat of my hand.