Then the engine settled.

I drove toward the children.

Behind me, the Starlight Bistro disappeared into the dark.

The blue folder had remained on Eleanor’s table.

The original records were safe elsewhere.

And for the first time in months, I was no longer trying to persuade Oliver to respect something he had already decided he wanted to take.

PART 7 — THE MORNING THERE WAS NO WEDDING

Saturday morning arrived without music.

No florist unloading roses.

No caterer setting tables.

No photographer calling for the bride.

I woke in the family cabin with the children asleep in the next rooms.