Then he turned toward the living room and saw us on the rug.

He didn’t drop his leather briefcase.

He didn’t ask why Ethan was sitting on his floor after twelve months away.

He didn’t look at the yellow bundle on the sofa.

Richard stared straight at the strips of silver tape holding the broken suitcase together.

“I thought we agreed this property was off-limits to unauthorized personnel,” Richard said.

I stood up and placed myself between him and the baby.

My shoes sank into the thick living room carpet.