No one was waiting inside to demand a report on where I’d been or to grumble about what time I got home.

No green leather ledgers were hidden in locked hall drawers, and no three-hundred-dollar credit card charges sat on a kitchen counter waiting for my signature.

Daniel and Eleanor were left alone on Maple Street to face the real cost of their house without my hard-earned paycheck to rescue them from default.

I took a quiet sip of tea and felt the warmth spread through my hands around the ceramic mug.

I turned back to the lit living room, stepped inside, and slid the glass balcony door shut.