the shade of my own porch.
That night, I lay in bed with the fan whirring and one hand resting on my belly. I stared at the thin cracks spidering across the ceiling. I thought about Walter packing that hospital bag a month early. I thought about Mrs. Higgins patting my knee.
For the first time in months, I felt lighter. Just a little. Just for a moment.
I didn’t know it would be the last time I ever saw her.
A siren tore me out of sleep.
I bolted upright, heart slamming, one hand flying to my stomach. Blue and red lights were streaking through the gaps in my blinds, sweeping across my bedroom walls in wild, panicked stripes.
For one frantic second, my mind raced to the worst places it could find. Maybe Lee had come back to make some kind of scene. Maybe the bank had already
sent someone to throw me out. Maybe I had done something wrong without even knowing it.
I grabbed the first cardigan I could find, pulled it on over my sleep shirt, and stumbled to the front door.
When I stepped outside, the street looked like a circus.
Two patrol cars sat at angles along the curb, lights still spinning. A sheriff’s SUV was parked right in front of my house. Neighbors had drifted out onto their lawns in robes and slippers, clutching coffee mugs, faces pinched with curiosity. A few of them turned to look at me the second my door opened.
And they were all standing near one house.
Mrs. Higgins’ house.
A cold feeling crept up the back of my neck. I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, lifted my chin, and stepped onto the porch, trying to look braver than I felt.
A tall
