Chapter 13: The Ordinary Temperature
The seasons moved forward without returning us to the garage on Aspen Ridge Lane.
Lily’s hair grew, her height changed, and the startle that once followed the sound of any heavy lid or sudden mechanical hum faded into ordinary childhood distractibility. She stopped asking me to check the locks in a ritual way; she simply lived inside the fact that the doors answered only to us. Supervised visits with Taylor continued on the court schedule and remained uneventful. Lily went, she returned, and she never asked to extend the time or to include anyone else. When Evelyn’s name surfaced in passing—through a relative’s careless remark or a piece of mail that should have been stopped—Lily’s face closed for a moment and then reopened on whatever game or drawing was in front of her. She did not inquire. She did not need to. The order had already answered the only question that mattered.
