Trish, seeing another opening, spoke quickly.

She said she would pay for the repair right now in cash if necessary and that they could all settle it between themselves and be done.

She reached into her coat as though she meant to produce the money on the spot.

I understood the offer for exactly what it was, a way to make a written record disappear under a folded stack of bills.

I told her no.

I said it politely, but I did not soften it.

I wanted a report.

I wanted the machine inspected by the man who had sold it to me.

And I wanted everyone who was standing in my driveway to write down in plain words what had really happened here tonight.

Marcus said that was reasonable and that he would prepare a report and Laura would document the damage.

The kitchen door opened again and Rachel stepped onto the porch in her parka. she called out in her steady nurse’s voice that the kitchen had fallen to 49° and that upstairs was colder.

She said it to me.

I stood between two obligations, one that belonged to the law and one that belonged to my family.

And I felt them pull against each other.

I told Marcus that now that they had seen the machine, its damage, and the trail behind it, I wanted to roll it to the sheltered pad beside the house and start it.

They were welcome to watch every step from as far back as they liked.

Marcus looked at the generator, then at the house, and then at Laura, who gave a short nod.

He said yes, and that Miss Whitmore was to stay by her vehicle.

I rolled the machine around the corner of the house myself, the dead wheels dragging in the drifts, and settled it onto the pad under the lean-to roof I had built for exactly this purpose.

I connected the cable to the inlet, checked the oil, opened the fuel valve, and set the choke.

In the beam of my flashlight, I could see Laura standing 30 ft away with her arms folded and Marcus beside her, and neither of them said a word.

I pulled the starter cord once and heard nothing but a cough.

I pulled it again, and the engine caught, sputtered, and settled into a deep, even roar that I felt in my sternum.

I threw the transfer switch and inside the house, through the wall, I heard the furnace blower begin to turn.

A line of yellow light climbed up the windows.

The family room lamps came on first, then the kitchen, then the hall, and through the glass, I could see Rachel pulling Noah into the warm light and kneeling to take off his boots.