Colin took the call on the back porch, where the glass doors would keep his voice from the house.
Inside, the twins were bent over their schoolwork at the kitchen table. Riley was upstairs, asleep for the first time in two days.
He had checked on her twice, and then a third time, and then made himself stop. Fall lay across his boots like a warm, heavy rug. The dog had not moved from his side since morning.
The screen said Julie. On her end of the world the day was ending. On his, the light was thin and silver and the grass was still wet.
"Colin."
"Julie," he said, trying to sound easy. "Ye're up late."
"I'm up on time. You're the one living in the wrong half of the day." There was a pause, and he heard her breathe in. "Are you somewhere you can talk?"
He looked through the glass at the twins. Andy was chewing his pencil. Andrew was correcting him without looking up. "Aye. The porch."
