Then Mark: I stand with Daniel and Emma.

A minute later, Claire: I do too. I’m so sorry, Dan.

Then one more notification: Patricia Hayes has left the conversation.

Two weeks later a courier delivered a package addressed to Mia. Inside was an antique porcelain doll with blank glass eyes, and in its ceramic hands, a heavy cardstock envelope.

Daniel intercepted it before she got home from school and opened it with a kitchen knife. He stood at the island reading the cursive, and for the first time since the garage, my husband broke down.

Not theatrically — he just pressed the heel of his hand against his mouth while his shoulders shook, and the pale pink stationery sat on the granite between us.