Three Baby Cribs and a Missing Set of Car Keys
“He took your car keys, Chloe,” she said, turning her head to look at me directly. “A man who wants to take you on a family vacation does not lock you out of your own vehicle.”
The mail carrier crossed the street, carrying a small stack of envelopes toward our porch.
He handed me three circulars and a past-due electric bill, then offered a brief wave before moving to the next lawn.
“We still have to pack the kitchen,” my mother said, rising from the step and brushing a speck of gray dust from her slacks.
“I know,” I said, but I remained on the step, staring at the blue envelope of the electric bill.
Inside the house, the quiet was heavier than it had been before Ryan left.
The babies were still at my mother’s apartment with Shaun, leaving me alone in the living room to pack the small decorative items from the bookshelves.
My phone buzzed on the coffee table, a short vibration that made me drop a roll of packing tape.
It was a video message from Ryan.
