It was the first holiday without her, and everyone braced for it to feel strange. It did feel strange — in a way that turned out to be a relief.

The tripwires were gone. There was no tension sitting under every remark. Nobody inspected the turkey skin for a flaw that would trigger a lecture. Nobody shushed the children for laughing too loudly.

Nobody performed gratitude while waiting to find out who that evening’s scapegoat would be.

The cousins tore around the backyard in paper pilgrim hats, shrieking.

Mia stayed attached to my leg at first, watching the chaos through the sliding door. Then Ethan came pounding up the deck stairs, cheeks red with cold, and asked if she wanted to help build a leaf pile.

She hesitated and looked up at me for permission.