“Look, we need to rent a dumpster for the garage this weekend,” Sarah said, looking toward the exit.

“Paul’s old desk in the office has to come down the stairs first.”

“First,” Arthur repeated, tucking his legal pad under his arm.

We walked out together onto the wide granite steps overlooking Grant Street, where the midday traffic crawled through the cold.

A yellow city taxi sat idling at the gray granite curb, puffing white exhaust from its tailpipe in steady clouds.

Lily stood on the top step with her coat collar turned up against the wind, watching the cars pass below.