Snow had fallen overnight, blanketing the maple trees, frosting the porch railings, smoothing the hedges into soft mounds.
But the driveway had been carved open.
The four SUVs that had been lined up side by side the night before were gone.
In their place were fresh tracks, dark and raw against the snow, leading away from the house in parallel lines.
She stood very still, one hand on the curtain.
Then she nodded once, as if confirming something to herself, and went downstairs.
The kitchen looked exactly the way selfish people leave a place they do not respect.
Half-finished coffee.
Open cream cheese.
Crumbs everywhere.
Someone had left a knife stuck in a stick of butter and two cereal bowls in the sink to harden into glue.
The room still held the warm, stale smell of rushed departure.
Yesterday Evelyn had spent ten hours making sure everyone had what they needed.
