“My keys are gone,” Juliette said, her voice shaking with a sudden, sharp panic.

“Sarah, where are yours?”

Sarah stopped on the bottom step, her duffel bag slipping slightly from her shoulder.

“They’re in my purse,” Sarah said.

She set the bag down and reached into her oversized tote bag.

She rummaged through it, her hand moving faster and faster.

The sound of rustling receipts and clinking coins filled the quiet hallway.

“They aren’t here,” Sarah said, her eyes widening.

“I left them on the counter by the sink.”

“Go look,” Juliette ordered. “Go look right now.”

Sarah hurried past me into the kitchen.

I did not move out of her way; she had to squeeze past my shoulder to get through the narrow doorway.

The scent of her expensive perfume mixed with the smell of the stale charcoal from the grill outside.

In the kitchen, her hands scrambled over the marble island.

She moved the salt cellars, the cutting boards, and the stack of unused paper plates.

“They’re not here, Mom,” Sarah called out, her voice rising in pitch.

“They’re gone.”

Juliette turned back to Dan.