For a moment, nobody got out.
Then the driver’s door opened.
A woman stepped out into the fog. She was older. Maybe seventy. Small and thin, wearing a tan raincoat that was too big for her and a pair of white sneakers. Her gray hair was pulled back in a clip. She had two empty grocery bags folded under her arm. The cloth kind. Faded.
She closed the car door very quietly. Like she didn’t want to wake anybody.
Then she started walking up the driveway.
She walked slowly. Her eyes were on the ground. Her shoulders were hunched up inside the raincoat. She walked like someone who’d made this walk many times before and still hadn’t gotten used to it.
Halfway up the driveway, she lifted her head.
She looked toward the garden.
And then her eyes went past the garden. Past the fence. Up.
