and opened a closet we’d been avoiding.”
Linda gestured toward the wrapped packages.
Then a familiar silver car stopped beside the curb.
Thomas stepped out holding a manila folder.
He froze when he saw the yard.
“What…” He looked across the lawn. “What is this?”
Linda answered before I could speak.
Thomas frowned.
“I don’t understand.”
“You wouldn’t.” I trailed my fingers over a baby blanket. “You left before you could.”
He stared at me.
Then he looked toward the gathered crowd.
“I came for the papers,” he said. “You