Mostly.
Ellie taped drawings to my workshop door.
One said, “Mr. Caleb fixes broken things.”
I kept that one in my toolbox like an idiot.
Mara made coffee strong enough to wake the dead. She hummed when she cooked. She pretended she didn’t like old country songs, then sang along while making pancakes on Saturday mornings.
My house changed slowly.
First came the pink sneakers abandoned by the stairs.
Then strawberry yogurt in the fridge.
Then spelling tests on the kitchen counter.
Then three toothbrushes in the bathroom cup.
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