With every object that left, Margaret felt the house deflate, as if it had finally stopped pretending to be warm.

By noon, echoes bounced off the walls. The kitchen looked like another place. No refrigerator, no blender, no coffee maker, no table. Only the cabinets and the note remained.

Margaret asked Frank to wait five minutes. She went upstairs and checked her room one last time. She did not take the children’s toys. She did not take their clothes.

She did not touch anything that was not hers.

At the front entrance, she left the house keys inside a white envelope. She also left the electric, water, internet, and gas bills, each marked with the date she had canceled automatic payments from her account.

Beside Rebecca’s note, she placed another sheet of paper: Daniel, starting today, your expenses belong to you again.