Somebody noticed. Somebody went.
Every open thing at Cedar Hollow has a name on it and an ending.
Otis Reyes had a fall on Sunday. A neighbour mentioned it. Aisha saw it Monday morning. Marcus was closer, so Marcus went. Otis is fine. Bruised, embarrassed, fine. And Priya can see the whole of that in one place, without asking anyone.
A person, a name, an ending. Not a log.
A single warm off-white card on cool grey, headed with Otis Reyes’s name and his county. Four plain sentences run down it, each beside a small ink dot joined by a hand-drawn line: a neighbour noticed a fall on Monday morning, Aisha Coleman picked it up the same morning, Marcus Bell went that afternoon because he was closer, and it closed on Monday evening with Marcus’s own words about a bruised hip, a promise about the ice, and a son coming Sunday.