Mara came on Thursday carrying a paper bag and no explanation.
The bag was narrow and folded twice at the top. It might have contained bread. It might have contained documents. She placed it beneath the telephone table and removed her coat.
Perla looked at the bag.
“What did you bring?”
“Nothing for you.”
“That usually means something unpleasant.”
“Not today.”
Mara hung her coat beside the door.
The morning had begun with rain but had changed its mind. Water clung along the windowsills. Beyond the glass, the garden held the dark shine of things recently washed.
Wyona sat at the kitchen table with one hand around her tea.
“You are early,” she said.
Mara glanced at the clock.
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