I walked us past her to the Buick.

Sophia climbed into the back and buckled the rabbit in beside her, then clicked the seat belt over its chest.

Elisa stood by the elevator with her phone held to her ear.

I didn’t turn around again.

Two days later, the apartment still smelled of the lemon polish I had used on the table.

Sophia carried her small bag into the living room and set it on the rug.

“Where should this go?” she asked.