“Get your things,” Sylvia said.

Ethan sat frozen on the vinyl chair, his phone still clasped in his right palm.

Sylvia reached down, grabbed his winter coat off the adjacent chair, and shoved the heavy wool fabric against his chest.

“I have the car running at the curb,” she said.

Ethan caught the coat in both arms, staring up at her with his mouth slightly open.

“Mom,” Ethan said.