When an obscure creditor called the house asking questions about an old guarantee, Maggie’s hands turned to ice. The voice on the phone had the flat tone of people who work for money. After she hung up, she realized how fragile life and everything one took for granted was.
As autumn bled into winter, the town’s curiosity sharpened. Casual acquaintances became detectives. “Did he leave you anything?” asked a woman at the post office. Maggie wanted to tell them to mind their own business, but instead she forced polite answers and retreated to the solitude of her kitchen.