She never has.

That is the one secret from those nine months I intend to keep for good.

By four o’clock, the ten-thousand-square-foot house was an echoing shell — bare floors, blank walls, the sound of my daughter’s small breathing carrying clear across empty rooms that had been full that morning.

Chapter 7 — The Red Cross

“That’s the last of it,” Priya said, walking back through the stripped living room with a cold bottle of water for me.

“Ready to go?”