He turned around and walked down the stairs without waiting for me to answer.
I stood at the top of the stairs, my hand resting on the smooth wood of the railing. I could hear him downstairs, rustling his keys. I did not change my clothes. I walked down the stairs, opened the front door, and followed him out to the driveway.
The air was crisp, the smell of dry leaves rising from the pavement. We got into the car without speaking.
