He nodded.
“Good night.”
“Marcus.”
He stopped.
Caroline held the blanket in both hands.
“Thank you for opening the door.”
“It’s just a door.”
She looked at him for another second.
“No.”
“It isn’t.”
Marcus went to bed.
He did not sleep.
He heard Caroline turn on the couch.
He heard the sink once.
He heard the bathroom door.
Small sounds.
Ordinary sounds.
Another adult inside the house.
Marcus stared at the ceiling and realized his home had not sounded this way since Renee died.
That frightened him.
The worst part was that he also liked it.
Amara discovered Caroline at 6:32 the next morning.
Marcus was making coffee when he heard little feet stop abruptly in the hallway.
Then silence.
He turned.
Amara stood in purple dinosaur pajamas with her braids half undone from sleep, staring at the woman curled beneath a blanket on the couch.
Her eyes grew huge.
“Dad.”
Marcus put down the coffee scoop.
“Morning.”
“There’s a woman.”
“I noticed.”
Amara whispered even louder.
“Why is there a woman?”
Caroline moved.
Her eyes opened.
For one disoriented second, she looked alarmed.
Then she saw Amara.
Something softened instantly.
“Hi.”
Amara did not move.
“Hi.”
“I’m Caroline.”
“I know.”
Caroline glanced toward Marcus.
Amara pointed at the window.
“You live there.”
“Apparently everybody keeps records around here.”
“My dad knows everybody’s air conditioner.”
Marcus sighed.
“Amara.”
“What?”
Caroline smiled.
“My air conditioner broke.”
Amara’s expression became grave.
“Last night?”
“Yes.”
“That’s dangerous.”
“It was pretty miserable.”
“My dad says people die in houses with no air when it gets this hot.”
Marcus looked at his daughter.
“We don’t have to open with that.”
“It’s true.”
Caroline pressed her lips together.
“Yes.”
“It is.”
Amara stepped closer.
“So Dad saved you?”
Marcus immediately said, “No.”
Caroline looked at him.
Then at Amara.
“Your dad gave me water and a cool place to sleep.”
Amara considered that.
“That sounds like saving.”
Marcus returned to his coffee.
“I’m making eggs.”
Amara looked at Caroline.
“You can stay for breakfast.”
Caroline looked uncertain.
“I probably should go home.”
“Your house is hot.”
“She has a point,” Marcus said.
Caroline stared at him.
“You’re inviting me to breakfast?”
“I’m cooking anyway.”
Amara smiled.
“Dad makes too many eggs.”
“I do not.”
“Every time.”
Twenty minutes later, Caroline sat at Marcus Bennett’s kitchen table eating scrambled eggs with hot sauce while Amara explained a science project involving a model desert ecosystem.
Marcus kept expecting the morning to become awkward.
It did not.
Caroline listened to Amara as if the child were presenting blueprints for a skyscraper.
She asked questions.
Real ones.
Why did desert plants hold water differently?
Why did Amara choose a roadrunner?