“Marcus watched it twice.” She said it like a peace offering and a warning at the same time, and then she reached into her bag and set something on the table between us.

It took me a second to place the gray ears, the pink insides rubbed pale.

Sophia’s rabbit.

The left ear was worn as thin as paper.

“She wouldn’t put him down in the car,” Elisa said.

“The nurse told me one item from home.

I brought him.”

It was the kindest thing she had done in years, and it sat between us like an invoice.