Martha’s sedan was in the driveway at two o’clock with the trunk wide open, and the trunk wasn’t empty.

“The silver belonged to your grandmother,” she said.

“The china came from her mother.

Robert says it should be split up fairly.”

“Robert says.” I held the screen door open with one hand.

“Did Robert pack these boxes, or did you?”

She bit her bottom lip and carried the first one past me into the hallway.

The silver service lived in the dining room sideboard, wrapped in a green felt roll.