Mike Maranhas

“How do you know?” Anxiety compresses each of her words. They fly toward me like hurled stones. “How can you be sure?”

“Because I know. I built it.”

“But you’re not a carpenter. Don’t you think they’ll see that?”

“Faith, be quiet.” I glance toward the closet, then back at her. ”They’ll hear you. And don’t put down my work. It looks fine. It’ll do the job. Just