By half past nine, the driveway was empty.

Julian and Chloe stood together out on the public sidewalk in the dark, surrounded by black garbage bags stuffed with the clothes they had grabbed, waiting for a car they had ordered on a phone, a ride they could, I suspected, barely afford anymore.

I did not watch them for long.

They were no longer my concern, and my mother was.

I walked back into the house, into the quiet, spacious living room where six hours earlier Chloe had lounged on the sofa and Julian had poured his scotch and told me I did not belong.