He took a heavy brass key out of his pocket and held it out to me.

“It’s solid cedar with an insulated core.

I set the lock to your five-digit security code.

Nobody else has a master key to this property.”

I took the key from him and stepped down off the top porch step.

The morning light glanced off the crisp white paint Thomas had put on the porch trim, the railings and the window frames.

Where the old garage lock had been rekeyed by Arthur to fit Julian’s master set, the new wooden garage door now sat square and solid in its frame, finished in a warm brown stain.