Hand hovering over the door handle, Lucy pauses. The smell of burned plastic makes her gag and she winces as she imagines the scene beyond. The fire has destroyed her once-pristine dining room, although she acknowledges, it had been unusable for a while. Six months to be exact. Ever since Tim moved his collection in. “Only temporary,” he’d said when she protested. “Just while I sort them out.” Temporary my foot. In fact,...