“You’ve got thirty minutes to get your personal clothing out of the house.”

Chloe swung around to me, her eyes wide, clutching her phone in both hands.

“You’re really doing this?” she asked.

“You’re letting them take our couch?”

“That sofa was paid for with money taken out of my deployment account,” I said, keeping my hands still at my sides.

“The truck pulls out in twenty minutes.”

Chloe stomped up the porch steps, her sneakers squeaking on the painted wooden boards.

I came up behind her and picked up my green canvas duffel, which was still sitting where I’d left it by the porch railing.