closet, pulled out my blue suitcase, and packed three dresses, sandals, Ernest’s last bottle of perfume, my passport, and the legal folder my attorney had prepared without Austin’s knowledge.
Then I called Mrs. Mary next door.
“Is your nephew still able to come pick up the animals?”
“Yes, Theresa. He already has the shelter ready.”
By four that morning, my living room was clean.
The cages were gone.
So were the smell of birdseed and the frightened animals.
I extinguished Ernest’s candles and left my house keys on the table
