The dust from the driveway kicked up, visible even from the sink.

A heavy car door slammed shut, followed by another.

“They’re here,” Dan whispered, looking almost pale.

He stepped toward the front door, but I caught his arm.

His forearm felt warm and slightly damp from the heat.

“Remember what we agreed,” I said, looking directly into his eyes.

He swallowed hard and nodded.

“I remember.”

Outside, the midday sun glared off the chrome of Juliette’s large white SUV.

The passenger door flew open first.

Sarah stepped out, wearing oversized sunglasses and holding a small designer purse.

She didn’t look at the house; she immediately looked at her phone.

Then the driver’s side door opened, and Juliette emerged.

She smoothed her linen shirt and adjusted her wide-brimmed straw hat.

Her hands were empty.

Behind them, the trunk remained firmly shut.

“Dan!” Juliette called out, her voice cutting through the humid air. “Come help with the bags!”

Dan looked at me one last time, then walked down the porch steps.

I stood behind the screen door, watching them.

The air outside was baking, at least ninety-five degrees already.

The cicadas in the oak trees screamed in a steady, high-pitched rhythm.

Juliette walked up the wooden steps, her sandals clicking against the pine boards.

She stopped in front of the screen door and squinted into the dim hallway.

“Annie, darling, open up,” Juliette said, waving a hand in front of her face. “It is absolutely boiling out here.”

I pushed the screen door open and stepped aside.

“Welcome,” I said.

Juliette pressed past me, bringing a heavy scent of lavender perfume into the quiet house.

She stopped in the center of the living room, looking around.

Sarah followed her, her eyes still glued to her screen.

“My goodness, is the air conditioning broken?” Juliette asked, pulling at her collar.