He’d stop picking up her calls and leave her waiting on the porch on Sunday afternoon, staring down the empty road.

I drove five miles across town to the quiet street where Sadie’s friend lived.

Sadie was sitting on the wooden porch steps under a bare oak, her silver backpack leaning against her ankles.

When she saw my car turn into the driveway, she got up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her left ear.

She came down the concrete walk with quick, anxious steps, pulling her thin jacket tight against the wind.

I knew right then that fighting with Rory would only make him take his anger out on Sadie.