Beth lay in bed looking out the window, listening to Mr. and Mrs. Miller arguing in the house across the street. Suddenly she heard a scream and saw a spray of red splash across their curtains.
A short time later, she watched Mr. Miller drag a large bag outside, haul it into his trunk, and then drive off.
Beth’s heart raced, but her hands lay unmoving at her side.
“Poor Ted,” her mom said days later as she cleaned Beth’s feeding tube. “He’s put flyers everywhere.”
Beth’s eyes flickered repeatedly toward the window.
“Sorry, Beth, I can’t take you outside now.”