Twelve Months Later, Ethan Came Back With a Sleeping Newborn and a Broken Suitcase

I walked back to the foyer.

Ethan was already standing by the front door with the baby pressed against his jacket.

The rain was coming down in thick gray sheets outside the porch windows.

The afternoon light was completely gone, replaced by the dark purple of a storm.

“Open the door,” I told Ethan.

Ethan turned the knob and pushed the door open.

A gust of cold wind blew rain onto the hardwood floor, soaking the mat.

“Where will you go?” Richard asked.