No one stopped him.
Ruth ate at the kitchen island while snow gathered against the windows.
When she went to bed, she pulled the gray blanket over her knees and noticed one corner had been carefully mended.
She ran her fingers over the small stitches.
The blanket had looked untouched the night of the flood.
Now it had been used enough to need repair.
Ruth smiled in the dark.
A guest room, she thought, should show signs that people had been welcomed.
Then she turned off the lamp and slept without listening for anyone’s permission.
