ambitions.
It had a modest backyard.
Narrow kitchen.
Poorly functioning fireplace.
And afternoon sunlight filling the upstairs hallway around four.
During my first visit, I imagined Lily dropping her backpack on the stairs.
I nearly rejected the place.
Then pictured myself surviving there.
I signed the lease.
During those fourteen days, David made one call.
Not to me.
To his mother.
Elaine was sitting at my dining table when her phone rang.
She checked the screen.
«My son.»
My chest tightened.
«You can answer.»
«I don’t know what to say
