The teller that day was Carol.

She wrote that he kept checking the door.”

I folded the paper into my purse.

Sarah was waiting in the Buick, and the old car hesitated going into reverse.

It always did that in the cold.

We drove to Maple Street, and I parked across from the brick duplex.

The yard had a plastic tricycle tipped on its side and a maple tree that had dropped most of its leaves onto the walk.

The upstairs curtains were open.