Haley poured syrup over her pancakes.

Her shoulders finally let go of their tension.

“We’ve got our routine back, Dad,” Haley said.

“That’s all we needed.”

At seven thirty the yellow school bus pulled up to the curb.

I watched Haley and Cody climb the metal steps.

The folding doors closed, and the diesel engine rumbled off down Elm Street.

At eight, a familiar silver pickup turned into the driveway.