Margaret's mouth opened on a shape that had practiced dignity all the way across town and lost it somewhere between the taxi and the porch.
"They told me I couldn't stay."
Daniel stepped closer. The suitcase's wheels had left a faint damp track on the rug. He smelled the cold on her coat, and underneath it the lavender lotion she had used for as long as he could remember.
"What do you mean, couldn't stay?"
Allison's voice cut in from the archway, low, careful, the voice of a woman trying to close a door that had already blown open.
"Daniel, let's not do this right now."