Sadie came in the back door with her flour-dusted apron in her left hand.

“Hi, Mom,” Sadie said.

She set her heavy backpack on the linoleum and glanced at the table.

“Hi, honey,” I said.

“Come sit down a minute.”

Sadie tucked her dark hair behind her left ear and took two slow steps toward the table.

“Did Dad ever text back about buying prom shoes?” Sadie asked.

“No,” I said.