The SUV sat locked and silent under the tree, its tires pulled close to the flower bed.

Linda Harrison stood on the top step of the front porch.

Her arms were crossed tightly over her navy blue cardigan, her shoulders hunched up toward her neck.

Her right hand was tucked inside her left elbow, but I could see her thumb pressed against the plastic case of the Toyota key fob.

Ethan stood two steps behind her in the dark recess of the open doorway, his head slightly bowed.

My father opened his door, walked around to the passenger side, and lifted Noah out of his seat.