It was a test—of their willingness to honor our new arrangement, of their respect for my relationship with Alice, of their acceptance that control had shifted.

After they drove away, the house felt suddenly empty and quiet.

For a moment I missed Alice’s energetic presence acutely.

But there was also relief—space to breathe, to process, to plan my next steps without performing normalcy for my granddaughter’s sake.

I made myself a cup of tea and carried it to the garden, sitting on the bench my husband had built decades ago.

The roses needed more attention, I noted absently.