The whole street reeked of lavender and the less subtle scent of successful young couples and perfect but invisible children. There was no activity anywhere. Quiet, unused trampolines sunbathed in backyards with no sign of life. “This is where you live?” I asked when Levi pulled into a driveway with a triple-car garage. Huge planters filled with colorful flowers lined the sidewalk all the way to the front door. Levi turned off the car and nodded. “Temporarily.” “It’s nice.” “Appearances can be deceiving. Come on.” We hopped out of the car, and I followed him up the driveway and waited while he punched numbers into the code-locked door. I crept into the house behind him but stopped on an area rug in the front hallway. He walked further without taking off his sneakers. The front entrance was large and dim with dark hardwood running down the hallway into a kitchen visible around the corner.
