She was in her early forties, with practical shoes and a voice that never rose above conversation level.

She asked about Chloe’s relationship with Garrett, how long the marriage had lasted, and whether there had been earlier signs of controlling behavior.

I wanted to say no.

I wanted to preserve one small piece of the idea that I had been a good mother who would have noticed danger.

But memories were waiting for me: a canceled birthday dinner, an unexplained wrist injury, the way Chloe stopped laughing whenever Garrett entered a room.

“There were signs,” I said at last.