I called Nathan.
No answer.
I called again.
Nothing.
He set it beside Diane.
Through the open supermarket doors, I could hear traffic.
I remembered the leaf blower he’d been using.
He wouldn’t hear his phone.
I abandoned my cart beside the apples and ran to my car.
He wouldn’t hear his phone.
***
The drive home took twelve minutes.
I stopped myself from opening the camera again.
Had Diane understood everything I’d said while I cared for her?
Why had she sent my little boy into my bedroom?
I pulled into the driveway.
Why had she sent my little boy into my bedroom?
Nathan was still in the garage.
The leaf blower was roaring.
I ran past him.
He shouted something I didn’t hear.
I pushed open the front door.
I ran past him.
Diane was standing beside her wheelchair, gripping its back.
Ben was next to her.
My blue box sat open on the small table.
