NORA

“You left it on your bed last night.”

Griffin said it from the bathroom doorway while the shower was still running behind him. Steam rolled out around his shoulders. He had a towel at his hips and nothing else. The sticky note was still on the door.

“I hung it back this morning.”

“After I checked. That is not the same thing.”

Mom’s car had left an hour ago. Grocery run. A neighbor. Something that gave the house an hour of quiet he had clearly counted.

“Get in,” he said. “Door stays open the way I leave it.”

“The gap.”

“Yes. The gap I never fixed.”

My stomach dropped....