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

“A personal matter,” Richard said.

“Nothing that cannot wait.”

I carried the salad plates to the kitchen at half past eight.

My cell phone lit up on the counter with Marcus’s name.

I answered with one hand still in the dishwater.

“Oakmont owns a residential house in Harlow,” Marcus said.

“Just past the county line.”

“Harlow,” I repeated.