The Way Home

Edith nods, unsurprised. "The sensible thing," she says, "done the brave way. There's a difference, you know, between leaving on a bus and leaving through a door." She scoops up the cat, who permits it, and pours him into your arms, who does not. "His bowl's by the front step. Sardines are HIS, it says so on the list. And—" her voice catches its heel on something, just briefly, "—come back. The…