“He doesn’t need a wall in the main living area anymore, Eleanor,” Harper said, her vocal fry dragging out the words.

“He’s not here to use it.”

I gripped the edge of the wooden mantel with my left hand and looked my sister straight in the eye.

“Touch that frame one more time,” I said, “and I’ll haul your luggage out of the hallway myself.”

Harper lowered the plaque half an inch, her mouth falling open in a quick gasp, but Martha pressed her hand flat against my arm.

“That’s quite enough,” Martha said.