Vanessa stood beneath the yellow porch bulb in a thick cream-colored coat with gold buttons on the cuffs.

She held three shiny black shopping bags by their silk handles, and behind her, idling at the curb, was a brand-new silver sedan with tinted windows.

“Happy birthday to my baby girl,” Vanessa said.

Lily came out of the kitchen hallway holding a yellow paper streamer she hadn’t finished putting up.

She stopped three feet back, chewing the inside of her cheek as she stared at the woman on our doormat.

It had been ten years almost to the month since the red taillights of Rob’s car pulled away from our curb.