The lights inside were off, but the gray afternoon light showed that my storage crates had been dragged away from the foundation wall.

I went up the side steps to the front porch.

I put my house key into the front deadbolt, but the brass cylinder was shiny and brand-new, a complete replacement for the original lockset my grandfather had put in thirty years ago.

Through the glass panel in the front door, I saw Evelyn carrying a stack of yellow kitchen towels to the hall closet.

She didn’t glance toward the porch.