“Only trash,” I said, folding it twice and tucking it into my cardigan pocket.

“Did your dad say anything else about calling you tonight?”

“He said he’d try,” she said quietly.

“If he gets home before nine.”

I put the car in drive and pulled out onto the road toward home.

By nine the next morning, the clinic waiting room was empty.

The morning block of cleanings was going on, and the hallway smelled of mint polish and rubbing alcohol.

Ben came out of the back bay carrying a pile of patient charts.