Caroline stood by the parlor door, her phone already placed on the side table next to the green shaded lamp.

She gave me a single, firm nod.

I walked to the front door, my hand resting on the brass knob for a second before I turned it.

Thomas stood on the threshold, wearing a camel-hair coat, his hair damp from the mist, a wide, easy smile on his face.

“Mother,” he said, stepping into the warmth of the hallway without waiting to be invited. “It’s good to see you.”

He reached out to hug me, but I stepped back, pretending to shut the door behind him to avoid his embrace.

“Thomas,” I said, keeping my voice level. “Come in out of the cold.”

He took off his coat, revealing a sharp, tailored suit that looked entirely too expensive for a man who claimed to be struggling.

He looked past me into the parlor, where Caroline was standing.

“Caroline,” he said, his voice softening into a tone that was meant to sound warm, even paternal. “You look beautiful.”

She smiled, a shy, hesitant smile that I had never seen her use before.