I draped the wet towels over the wooden headboard of the bed so they would dry in the quiet air.

By nine o’clock that evening, the house was dark and completely still.

Mark’s luxury sedan had backed out of the driveway an hour earlier, taking him and Sloan out to dinner downtown.

I sat in the dark on the edge of my mattress with a small metal flashlight in my left hand.

I opened a fresh yellow spiral notebook I had bought weeks ago for ninety-nine cents.

I pulled out my worn leather checkbook register and laid it flat on my knees beside the notebook page.