“Good night, Eleanor,” I said.

I picked up my briefcase, left the kitchen, and headed for the main staircase.

The upstairs landing was pitch black.

The night-light that had glowed in the low wall outlet by the linen closet for three years had been pulled out, leaving the outlet cover empty and dark.

Why had Daniel left the hall light off when he knew I’d be climbing the stairs with a heavy bag?

I reached into the darkness, ran my left thumb along the wooden handrail, and felt my way the three steps to our bedroom door.