She Walked Out, and Ten Years Later She Showed Up With Expensive Gifts at a Twelfth Birthday Dinner
She jerked the top dresser drawer out so hard it wedged crooked in its runners.
She wrenched at it, dumping a heap of cotton socks onto the floorboards.
She left them there and reached into the closet for an armful of silk dresses, the wire hangers clanking together as she crammed them into the open suitcase.
Downstairs, Mark stood on the rag rug by the front door frame with both hands jammed in his back pockets.
He glanced up at the ceiling when he heard her shoes on the wooden stairs, then turned his eyes to me.
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