She gets Suzy dressed in cuffed jeans and a T-shirt, puts a little embroidered jean jacket on her to complete the look. But Suzy kicks off her little white sneakers, peels off her socks. She throws them against the wall, and Annie sighs.

“Don’t you want to make me happy?” She tugs Suzy’s hair into two braids. “Soon, we’ll only have each other.” Suzy looks up at Annie, flinches as Annie tightens her hair, and sticks her thumb in her mouth, gazes at Annie with her dewy blue eyes.

“Lolly can come to school?” She reaches for the stuffed dog with her free hand, rubs its worn fur on her face. Lolly is bald in places now where Suzy has picked at her. Some of her stuffing is coming out, too.

“Yes, just this once, Lolly can come, too. But we have to go now so Daddy won’t miss his train.” Suzy nods obediently and reaches for Annie’s hand as they both stand up.

Outside, it is spring. The lake looks golden, flowers blooming on its banks. The sky is so blue it makes Annie’s eyes hurt as she pulls out of the driveway, Mr. Keller in the passenger seat, his fingers hanging out of the open window.

She stares at his profile at a stoplight. His face is still creased from the pillowcase, and he hasn’t shaved. There is a hole in his sweater, right at the neck, that could accommodate her pointer finger. In the back, Suzy sings to herself, the opening song of The Lion King, but with garbled, made-up words.

Suzy waves at her dad through the window, and he blows her a kiss. He continues to wave even as he steps onto the platform, even as the train arrives at the station. Finally, when he has turned away, Annie waves back, too.

The rest of the day hums along as usual. After she’s done with the dishes and the bedding, Annie sits on the back porch and looks out at the lake, the scent of freshly mown grass wafting through the air. The light is so airy and golden that it seems almost spooky, no cloud in the sky, water sparkling like diamonds. For the first time in her life, she takes out a cigarette, a Pall Mall, and lights up. She can’t inhale correctly, and the smoke singes her lungs, and she’s hacking, yellow mucus clinging to the hand into which she coughs.

The smoke rises and fades with the sun. She buries the cigarette in the ground near the porch steps.