Days stretched, thinner and thinner. Dusting the hallway, Helen found Lisa’s leather satchel on the coat rack. She hesitated, then opened it the way you lift a curtain when a room has gone dark.
Receipts. Tissues. A glossy brochure: New Beginnings. A smiling townhouse and a trimmed hedge. Recent date stamped in the corner. Helen’s heart felt suddenly too loud.
Were they moving? Without telling her? Or had she simply drifted so far from the center that no one thought to ask which way she’d like the furniture turned?
