“Graham respects people who keep things in order,” Adam said.

He pulled a fork from the drawer, broke off a small bite of cake and ate it on his feet.

“He said he’s looking for somebody.”

“For the shipping department, you mean?” I asked.

“No,” Adam said, turning the fork over in his hand.

“Not for the company.”

He took his plate and headed for the living room, leaving a thick silence behind him in the kitchen.

I wiped the tile counter, picked up Sophie’s sprinkle jar and looked at the clock over the stove.