As we drove toward the downtown skyline, my phone lit up again in the cup holder.

The phone showed Graham’s name again.

I let it ring until the screen went dark.

We pulled up to the stone driveway of The Crescent.

The valet took the keys, and a porter helped with our three bags.

Ruby and Hazel walked close to my sides, their eyes tired but calm.

Inside the suite, the air smelled of fresh lilies and polished wood.

I tucked the girls into the heavy down comforters of the double bed.

“Are we going back to Grandma’s?” Hazel asked, her voice small.

“No, sweetie,” I said, brushing a stray hair from her forehead. “We are staying here.”

“Good,” Ruby whispered. “I don’t like her house.”

I kissed them both and turned off the bedside lamp.

I sat by the window, watching the distant headlights on the Dallas North Tollway.

The city looked cold and sharp.

I woke up at six the next morning.

The sun was just rising, casting a pale orange glow over the downtown skyline.

I ordered room service for the girls—pancakes, fresh berries, and warm milk.