It was dusk. The house had no lights, no signs of life. Poppy could barely make out the outline of the turret against the darkening sky. Was it possible for a house to look sad? She wished Ann were there to greet her, even though Ann was pissed at her for having been gone this long, pissed that Poppy couldn’t deal, pissed she’d had to be the one to take charge (even though Ann was always the one to take charge anyway).

“Let me help you with your things,” Dawn said.

“I’ve only got my pack. I’m good. Thank you.”

“Watch your step. I’m glad Brad shoveled the sidewalk.”

“Brad?”

Dawn laughed. “You sure have been gone a long time, haven’t you? Brad’s been living in your house for a few years now, and thank goodness. He’s taken good care of it. And your parents.”

“But who is he? Ann didn’t mention—”

“She didn’t? Oh, he’s wonderful. He was in band with your dad. Owns some kind of factory. He sleeps in the basement. It’s very private, he has his own entrance and everything. You’ll hardly ever see him.”

“Does he know I’m here to get the house ready to sell?”

“I’m sure Ann told him. He knows he can’t just live there forever.”

“I thought I’d be alone.”

“Oh, you will be. He told me he’s going to stay with a friend for a few weeks. He figured you’d want some space. That’s the way he is.” Dawn leaned noisily across the seat in her big, squeaky coat to give Poppy another hug, and Poppy remembered that Midwesterners love hugs. “Promise you’ll call me if you need anything. I live in Wauwatosa now, in a condo, but it’s not that far, not really, just a hop, skip. Especially for someone like you who’s been all over the world, right? What’s Tosa, for Pete’s sake? I’m here for you, honey. Call me. We’ll get dinner. Oh, and speaking of, I left a casserole and some taco dip for you in the fridge.” She handed Poppy the set of keys Ann had left for her. “Sure you don’t want me to go in with you?”

“I’m fine.”