I held back the reassurance I had given too quickly before.

Knowing a thing did not immediately remove the voice that contradicted it.

Three months after the hospital night, we sat in the county courthouse.

Clara wore a blue sweater and still needed support for her healing shoulder.

She chose a seat near the aisle so she could move if sitting became painful.

I wore my uniform, though by then nobody involved in the case needed another reminder of my occupation.

Arthur appeared older than he had in our kitchen.