“When do you need the service?”

She looked at the note one more time. “Tomorrow at eight.”

That night, she did not cry. She packed two suitcases, gathered her documents, wrapped Arthur’s photo in a towel, and placed the blue folder inside her handbag.

Before bed, she went back down to the kitchen. She took Rebecca’s note and placed it exactly where it had been. Above it, in black pen, she wrote: Thank you for showing me who was really family.

And then she knew that when Daniel came back from Hawaii, he would not return to the same house. Or the same mother.

The movers arrived Friday morning right at eight. Three men stepped out of a white truck in front of the house. The crew leader was named Frank. He wore a gray cap, carried a clipboard, and had the face of a man hoping not to get dragged into family problems.