Mark didn’t budge an inch from the front door frame.

“Is she taking all of her clothes?”

“She’s packing up,” I told him.

“I’m taking what’s mine,” Vanessa said without turning around.

She dragged two heavy winter coats down off the brass hooks in the hall and slung them over her left arm.

Mark shifted his work boots on the rug, his shoulders stiff under his gray flannel shirt.

“What about the kids?”

Vanessa halted in the narrow doorway with her hand flat on the wooden trim.