But she could not completely erase the truth because Evelyn quietly kept a record.

I wish she had never needed to.

That is different from wishing the record did not exist.

One Sunday afternoon, years after everything happened, I sat in our backyard watching Maya attempt to teach our dog to jump through a plastic hoop.

The dog had no interest.

Maya had endless confidence.

Evelyn sat beside me.

Her hair had a few silver strands now.