She didn’t unlock it.

“Maybe his job went late,” she said softly, her thumb tracing the edge of her paper napkin.

“He said work was finally picking up this week.”

“Maybe so,” I said, though my index finger was already rubbing hard against the side of my thumb.

By seven the pot of chili had cooled enough to spoon into plastic containers for the freezer.

Sadie took her bowl to the sink, turned the faucet on low and rinsed off the red sauce without making another sound.