"Where are my keys?" Miranda was fruitlessly digging about in her purse. "There on the table." "Those aren't mine. My key ring is red. That one is green." "It is? Oh." He folded his newspaper and pushed back from the table. "This is just typical. I'm late and I can't find my keys, and you're no help at all." "Maybe they're in the kitchen. I'll look for you." Adam stood up. "No, I don't think I left them there. Where was I last? I was in the bedroom and then I came downtairs. I must have had them last night. it was so late when I came in. I was so tired I was half asleep. Why does this always happen?" He moved toward the kitchen. "I can tell you how tired I was. I thought the light was on in the bedroom upstairs when I pulled in the driveway but that's silly. You were fast asleep by the time I got upstairs." He was nearly at the door. "I didn't put them on the hall table. They weren't on the dresser this morning." Miranda paused. "Adam..." He started to push open the door. "Adam, wait a second." He stopped. He didn't turn. "Yes?" "Whose keys are those?" "I guess they must be mine." "Look at me." "I'm going to check the kitchen. I'll be right back." "Adam, look at me." He slowly faced her. His face was flushed with color. "Those aren't your keys. You have silver key ring. Whose are those?" "Somebody must have left them." "Who, Adam? Who could have left them?" "Maybe a salesperson. I don't know. People come in. People come out." Miranda picked up the keys between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand as if she were picking up something spoiled. "And you don't remember who?" "I didn't think about it. I thought they were yours. You know how color blind I am. Red. Green. It's hard for me to distinguish." She threw the keys at him. Her aim was bad. The keys arched high and wide. He automatically reached out to catch them. He squeezed his hand into a fist around them without looking at what he held. "Whose are they, Adam? Who was here? Who was she?" "Why do you think a woman left them?" "So a man was here and left his keys?" "I don't know. I don't remember." "There are so many people running through our house that you don't remember? Who was she, Adam?" "Nobody. I mean, I don't remember anybody." He shook his head. "Somebody was here last night." "If you say so." "No, you tell me. Was someone here last night? Someone who left their keys? Someone...someone with you in our bedroom last night?" "Miranda, don't let your imagination get the best of you." "Don't you dare get condescending with me. Who is she?" "I don't want to have this conversation." "Of course you don't. That spoils your fun. So, are you're going to return them to her?" He took a deep breath and released it in a sigh. "Answer me, Adam. Are you going to return the keys to her? You know who they belong to, don't you? Don't you?" "Yes." She took a step. "Who?" "It doesn't matter. You don't know them." "Oh, it doesn't matter because I don't know her? Damn it, Adam. You know her...that makes it matter. I can't believe it." He shook his head. "Wait a second. If her keys are still here...is she still here? She's in my house somewhere?" Adam looked to a spot beyond her. But who or what he was looking at, Miranda never saw.