My first instinct was to argue.

My second was to look through the ICU window and remember the promise I had made.

“Then please find it,” I told him.

He wrote down the location Chloe described: a guest room on the second floor, behind the wardrobe, near a sewing kit Evelyn insisted her daughter-in-law use.

He also asked whether Chloe had ever shared the notebook’s contents with anyone.

I remembered messages from her college friend, Tessa, appearing on Chloe’s phone during our Saturday visits.