It had three windows, a porch swing, and a gate decorated with giant stars.

In one window she drew herself, in another Brian, and in the last me.

“Where’s Grandpa?” Brian asked before thinking.

Tessa pressed the marker so hard the paper wrinkled.

“Not in this house.”

Brian looked devastated.

But he didn’t contradict her.

That evening, as I helped Tessa wash her hands, she asked whether adults could be punished for breaking promises.