“She’s my sister.”

“Can you describe them for me?” Marcus asked.

I gave him their exact heights and hair colors.

I described the clothes they’d had on when I backed my Honda out of the drive.

I told him my father was in a gray sweater and carrying a dish towel.

I told him my sister was wearing a black track jacket.

“I’ll put copies of this at the upstairs desk too,” Marcus said.

“If they show up, they don’t get past this lobby,” Denise said.