“The leaves on our street are mostly down,” Lily said, looking straight ahead.

“They’ll be slippery.”

She reached out, unwound the red ribbon from her fingers, and slid her small, cold hand into my open palm.

Down on the sidewalk, fifty feet below us, Rebecca opened the back door of the yellow cab and shoved a single brown leather suitcase onto the floor.

She climbed into the back seat without looking up at the courthouse steps and pulled the door shut behind her with a dull thud.

“Look, if we don’t tape the baseboards, you’re going to get blue paint all over the hardwood.”