QUOTE : That day the stale butt pile hadn’t grown. The teacup rested on the table, but the chair was gone. The root cellar door was open, amplifying the sound of the creaking rope, but even then, Moms had immediately known it was too loud, the house too still. She knew everything before she took the first step down into the cellar. And she stopped when she saw the loafers turning idly in the air, one half off, the other determinedly in place. She saw the piece of paper on the dirt floor and forced herself to walk back out without seeing too much or taking the note. She’d violated a Nada Yada before she even knew what they were. She didn’t look up. She didn’t want to see.