Wet fallen leaves were plastered across the windshield, black in the lamplight.

Across the street, a yellow moving truck stood in Rebecca’s driveway with its roll-up door open.

Two men in dark jackets carried a wooden dresser down the steps, their boots slipping on the wet paint.

Behind them came Lily in a brown winter coat, carrying a cardboard box marked bedroom.

At the bottom step, she stopped, pulled a red ribbon out of her pocket, and wrapped it twice around her knuckles.

She looked toward my dark car, but the rain had streaked the glass, and I didn’t move.