I stared at her.
Daniel groaned.
Then I laughed.
“Get out.”
She laughed too and set the pie on the counter.
After dinner, Daniel sat on the floor beside the blue chair while I told the hot-chocolate story again, this time with Vanessa listening. The faded cushion cover rested across the back.
Outside the bay window, snow began settling over the yard my husband and I had once saved so hard to own.
Inside, nobody asked permission to be family.
They only remembered to ask before moving the chair.
