I managed to find a few of Ethan’s winter clothes that had been spared from the destruction, tucked away in a closet drawer Ryan had missed.

We packed them into a small duffel bag Thomas found in the hallway closet.

As we walked back down the curved staircase, the house felt even colder than before.

The wind howled outside, rattling the tall glass windows of the foyer.

Officer Miller opened the front door for us, the cold Denver air rushing in to meet us.

“We’ll have a patrol car keep an eye on the property tonight, Mrs. Parker,” Miller said. “If your husband returns, we’ll be notified.”

“Thank you,” I said.

Thomas wheeled me down the ramp he had installed over the front steps, his face set against the freezing wind.

He helped me into the passenger seat of his truck, lifting me carefully so as not to strain my stitches.

Once I was settled, he placed the duffel bag of salvaged baby clothes in the back seat.

Just as Thomas closed his door and started the engine, the digital display on the truck’s dashboard lit up.