The screen lit up with Darla’s landline number from Sioux Falls.

“Jodi,” Darla said when I picked up.

Her voice was flat and steady and came through clearly over the tinny speaker.

“How’s my granddaughter?”

“She’s fine, Darla,” I said.

“She’s inside doing her homework.”

“Have you taken her to find a dress for that prom yet?”

I looked through the screen door at the gray plastic bag sitting on the hall table.