Claire folded her arms.
“You took twelve years.”
“I hit traffic.”
She laughed.
Then they hugged.
It was not dramatic.
No music played.
Nobody standing nearby burst into applause.
It was simply two old friends discovering that twelve years had changed them without erasing everything.
Caleb crouched beside Ruby.
“So you’re the famous wallet finder.”
Ruby frowned.
“I’m not famous.”
“Your mother has mentioned the wallet about six times.”
Claire objected.
“Twice.”
“At least five.”
Ruby whispered to Caleb, “She exaggerates less than Mrs. Alvarez.”
“Everyone exaggerates less than Mrs. Alvarez.”
From the third-floor window came a shout.
“I HEARD THAT.”
Caleb laughed so hard he had to sit on the steps.
Something about the sound seemed to complete a circle nobody had known was unfinished.
In November, the current owner of 114 Aldridge agreed to consider a purchase proposal from a newly formed resident cooperative.
There was no guarantee.
