“Did she tell you how long the drive would take?” I asked.
“A long time,” Lily said. “She said she had to focus on the road and not answer anyone.”
I looked at the silver watch on my wrist, adjusting the metal strap out of habit. The hands showed ten past eleven.
“Does your dad know where you are today?” I asked.
Lily stopped twisting her sweater, her fingers freezing against the grey wool.
“Daddy thinks we are with Mommy,” she said, her voice dropping to a faint whisper.
“Did he know she had work this weekend?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Mommy said we were going to the park with him, but then she said we were coming here instead.”
I stood up and went back into the kitchen, the linoleum cold beneath my socks.
The plastic grocery sack Vanessa had left behind sat on the counter, its white handles drooping over the edge. I reached inside and pulled out the blue emergency inhaler, the plastic casing cool in my palm.
