Caleb nodded with great seriousness.

“Tomorrow.”

I put the toast on their plates and checked the lunches.

The argument continued while Dylan smoothed a bent corner of his red folder and insisted it belonged on top in the blue backpack.

Caleb held the bag still while Dylan freed the zipper when it caught.

For once, neither asked whether we were coming back to the same house.

That did not mean they had forgotten everything.