Margaret Doyle — The House They Thought Was Theirs

I let the silence remain.

Before leaving, Beverly paused beside the door.

“Your new home suits you.”

“Thank you.”

That was all.

She did not apologize for twenty-five years in one afternoon, and I did not demand that she try.

The visit was peaceful because each of us understood that it could end when I chose.

After she left, I set the geranium in the kitchen window.