“We had a problem with the tumbler two weeks ago,” Richard said, taking a slow sip from his mug without looking me in the eye.

“I had a locksmith come over from the avenue.

There’s a spare key on my workbench out in the garage.”

“So where are my dress uniforms?” I asked.

Evelyn stepped in between us, her hands clasped tight together up near her collarbone.

“Chloe needed the main bedroom, sweetie,” she said.

“She and Vance have been staying here since August, and that old sofa in the den was doing terrible things to Chloe’s back.”

I stared at my mother and turned the silver thumb ring around once, twice, three times.