***
Mark had noticed I looked wrung out at work lately.
I’d told him, over coffee in my kitchen once, that I was burning out. That I didn’t know how much longer I could keep cutting people open at 2 a.m.
Lily had been in her bedroom that afternoon, close enough to hear.
I hadn’t thought about it since.
I looked wrung out at work.
***
Lily was in the middle of a circle of her friends that we’d invited over, laughing at something Rachel had said, her hair catching the late afternoon light. I stood by the grill flipping burgers, and for a second, I just watched her.
My kid was growing up fast.
I heard a knock at the front door. I set the spatula down and walked through the house, expecting a late guest or a delivery driver. When I opened the door, the porch was empty.
