By the time I drove home, I would know exactly who he was.

Chapter 3 — The Lobby

When I got there, Grandma Eleanor was sitting beside a single brown suitcase and a grocery bag packed with her medications.

She was still wearing her church coat, though the lobby was warm.

Her gray hair was carefully pinned, exactly as always, and her face wore the calm, stone-cold expression it always took on when she had passed all the way through anger and out the other side into something colder and more final.

I crouched down beside her chair.