“Sure,” I say, wanting nothing more than to get back in the car and go home.

“I’ll only be an hour at the most.”

“Okay.”

He jostles my neck a little before he lets me go.

And then he’s gone. I watch as the SUV disappears around the corner.

I breathe.

THERE’S A woman in the front yard next door. She’s on her knees, pulling weeds from the flower bed. She hears the creak of the rusted metal gate as I push it open and looks over at me.

“They ain’t home,” she says. She must think I’m here to sell something, like vacuums or Jesus. “Haven’t been home for a few days.”

“That’s because she’s dead,” I say.

Well done, it whispers. Don’t you dare pull those punches.

Her eyes widen a little. “The little girl?”

I shake my head. “She’s fine. She’s in Oregon with my—where she belongs.”

She sighs and reaches up to wipe the sweat from her brow. A little piece of grass sticks to her forehead. “Family? Didn’t think they had much of that.”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” she says. “She deserves it. Didn’t have anything like that around here. None of my business, I suppose. How’d she pass, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Heart attack,” I say, and it might be the most surreal moment of my life. Being here. Talking like this with a stranger. “A big one.”

She nods like that makes sense. “When it’s your time, it’s your time. Isabelle’s a good kid. I hope you take care of her.”

I narrow my eyes. “I didn’t say that—”

“Boy, you look just like the both of them. Don’t you think you’re fooling anyone.”

I smile a little helplessly at that.

“You gonna do right by her?”

“I think so.”

“There you go,” she says, as if it’s that easy. “It’s hot out today. I need to get back to my flowers before I melt. If you want to leave the keys with me when you’re done, we have the same landlord. I can make sure he gets them. And take care of that little girl, you hear me? She’s a good one. Not saying that her mom wasn’t, but she needs more than that woman was ever able to give.”

And then she turns around and starts pulling weeds again.

THE HOUSE is hot and smells of stale smoke. It’s dark inside, the shades having been pulled shut across the windows, the white plastic slats hanging still in the thick air.