I parked my car in the driveway of the Lakewood house at half past five.

Daniel was still at his consulting office.

Ava was at high school track practice.

The house was completely quiet.

I walked straight through the kitchen and opened the door to the attached garage.

The air inside smelled of old motor oil and dry dust.

Daniel kept his personal storage boxes stacked behind his heavy wooden workbench.

I moved a pair of metal sawhorses out of the way.