The front screen door wasn’t locked.

Inside, the kitchen smelled of chicken broth and lemon floor wax.

Evelyn stood at the stove stirring a small stainless steel pot while a little radio on the counter played instrumental music.

Her black leather purse sat wide open on the kitchen island beside three unopened envelopes.

“Leah,” Evelyn said, setting her wooden spoon down on a ceramic rest.

Her right hand went straight up to fix her pearl necklace.

“Your father told me you were staying in base quarters until things got sorted out.”