The front yard looked completely normal in the afternoon light.

The big oak tree by the sidewalk dropped a few brown leaves onto the concrete walk.

The curtains in my living room were drawn tight.

At fourteen twelve, a silver sedan pulled into my driveway.

“That’s Patricia’s car,” I said.

The car stopped just short of the garage door.

The driver’s door opened, and Patricia stepped out onto the concrete.

She wore a tailored beige trench coat, dark slacks, and her pearl earrings.