“Harper, dear.”

“Hello, Gloria.”

“You really ought to leave the spare keys on the counter.” She said it sweetly.

She says everything she means sweetly.

“Brooke needs them for the contractor.

He’s coming Monday, and I won’t have him standing around on the porch.”

The keys were in my fist, warm from my grip.

The brass one, the silver one, and the little black fob.