My hand was not shaking.

For years I had treated Daniel’s anger like an emergency I was obliged to resolve.

That morning it was simply his anger, and it belonged to him.

PART 4

The children’s presents were still beside my kitchen counter.

I had wrapped them in cheerful paper covered with little green trees, writing their names in the careful handwriting I used when I wanted something to feel special.

My granddaughter Emma was ten and loved drawing animals.