The wet path from the living room to the kitchen.
Richard watched me document each item.
He did not ask whether Emma could see.
He did not ask which hospital Daniel was taking her to.
He did not ask whether he should come.
He only watched my phone move from one object to the next.
Then he walked down the hall.
I heard the back door open.
By the time I reached the kitchen, he was gone.
The door stood slightly ajar.
Cold air moved across the wet tile.
I called Daniel, but he did not answer.
I called again.
Still nothing.
I knew he was driving, and I knew Emma needed him focused on the road, but every unanswered ring made the house feel larger and less familiar.
I closed the back door without locking it.
Then I returned to the living room and sat on the floor beside the ruined gift.
