“He built a second life on Laura’s grave.”

Eleanor stood up from the table.

She untied her apron strings and let the fabric fall to the floor.

She walked over to the kitchen counter and wiped it down with a dry towel.

She rubbed the same spot over and over, staring out the window at the empty driveway.

“What do we do?” Eleanor asked.

“I pledged the market deed to get an emergency court order,” I said.

“We’re going to bring Emma home for good.”