Emily had known full well that Frank wasn’t perfect when she’d married him, and she’d loved him anyway. Surely she was never going to wear that wedding dress again, but still she set it aside to hang back in the closet. Maybe one day they’d have a daughter and she could put it in a dress-up box.

A baby girl. Too bad Frank couldn’t drive over to a yard sale and rustle up one of those. Emily swallowed the lump in her throat.

It was three o’clock when she took a final shot of the candle, which had burned down several inches. Blew it out and took another picture. She was telescoping the tripod when her phone pinged. Becca, punctual as always.

Meet you at the Park ’n’ Ride in thirty.

Emily texted back.

Leaving in 5.

She shucked off her top and shorts and grabbed a freshly laundered pale blue collared T-shirt with their new company logo embroidered on one side, and a pair of matching cotton drawstring pants. Her admittedly dorky matching baseball cap was in her gear bag. She tried to slip on one of the blue sneakers that were part of their official ensemble, but her foot was too sore. No way could she wear them for the next few days at least. Instead, she put on a pair of roomy purple Crocs that she used for gardening. She took a test step and another one. They’d get her through the on-site consult that she and Becca did together before committing to work with a client.

She ducked into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. Brushed out her long hair and put it up in a ponytail. Then she went downstairs. Frank would return and find her gone. She left him a note—a frowny face with tears and below it a row of x’s and o’s.

Then she grabbed the canvas bag where she kept her gear, tucked her little purse and cell phone into it, and left the house.

Emily’s white Honda Civic hatchback had been the last 2006 on the lot in December of that year, the model so basic that it didn’t have automatic door locks. A month ago, she’d had the Freeze-Frame Clutter Kickers logo stenciled on the doors. The car started right up. It always did. For Emily, dependability far outranked flash. It was an easy ten-minute drive to the Park ’n’ Ride on a Saturday afternoon, and when Emily arrived, there were plenty of empty spots. She pulled up alongside Becca’s car, a white compact Kia whose door was also stenciled with their logo.

Becca lowered her car window. “Come on, let’s roll.”