The house belonged to me.

The trust belonged to the children’s future.

The decision to marry belonged to me.

I’d almost forgotten that.

Now I hadn’t.

EPILOGUE — THE FIRST PANCAKE

The following autumn, Harry decided he wanted to learn how to make pancakes.

He’d grown taller.

His shoulders had broadened slightly.

He was less interested in the little plastic diving watch Oliver gave him, though he still kept it in a desk drawer.

He’d stopped asking whether we might have to move.

Most mornings, he came downstairs hungry and impatient, complaining that Megan used all the hot water.