The clock ticked quietly in the corner as the soft hum of the ceiling fan filled the room. Riele was curled on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her. She and Harry had been talking for nearly an hour—just about anything and everything. Movies they used to watch as kids, their mother's old singing voice that filled the kitchen on Saturdays, and the ridiculous things Harry did in high school that got him grounded for a month.

"You remember when I broke dad’s vinyl player?" Harry asked, ...