She swung open the big brown door, breathing in the lemon-clean smell of the newly cleaned house, and waved at the little girl still walking down the street. The green-and-white school bag with the puppy keychain sank to the floor, tangled in a heap with the two now-vacant, size four, Velcro sneakers. Her happy, restless feet flew through the house as her thick sunny hair bounced along behind.

The front door slammed shut, and dancing footsteps fill the vivid upstairs with song. She called with a bleeding heart, telling her daughter to dance her way downstairs to where she was sitting in the dampened dim light that was trickling through the tiny windows. The munchkin feet dawdled down the carpeted stairs, and the dull of the room brightened with a flick of the child’s hand. The talk began, a short and dismal one, ending in the silence that only a broken innocence could produce.