It was ten past six.

The landline on the kitchen wall rang twice, its loud bell vibrating through the quiet room.

Ethan didn’t flinch or glance at his wristwatch.

He set June back in her padded seat, fastened her safety harness, and picked up the white plastic receiver on the third ring.

“Hello, Mom,” Ethan said.

I took a handful of silverware from the drawer and started setting two woven placemats on the small round table.

Sylvia’s voice came through the receiver, loud and sharp enough to bounce off the subway tile backsplash.