She waited for him to explain.

He lifted the folded blanket from the seat and laid it on the bed.

“Why would somebody be looking at my wheelchair?”

“It’s a good chair.

Somebody else can use it.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

Daniel looked toward the stairs.

From downstairs came the faint sound of a car door closing.

Evelyn had bought the wheelchair after her old one became difficult to maneuver.

It had been fitted to her measurements, with a carefully adjusted seat, supportive backrest, and wheel positioning that allowed her to move through the narrow hallway without injuring her shoulders.

She knew exactly how much pressure to apply to each wheel.

She knew which corner needed a wider turn.

She knew how to position herself to use the platform lift Thomas had installed between the two floors.

Without that chair, her independence disappeared.