coming in or not.
She stepped inside slowly, not sure what to expect.
The house was clean and orderly, which surprised her. But what stopped her completely were the walls.
They were covered in photographs.
Children at birthday parties. School portraits. Holiday gatherings. Faces caught mid-laugh, frozen in time in frames that had clearly been placed with care.
She asked if they were his family.
Arthur stood by the window looking out and said he had three children. He said they had stopped coming.
He offered nothing else, and she
