This time there was no fear in her expression.

She was simply checking that we were both smiling for the camera.

I smiled, and the photographer captured the moment.

PART 20

On a warm Sunday in May, nearly eight months after the gala, I woke to the smell of toast.

Grace had carefully laid out two plates on the kitchen table and set a small vase between them.

In the vase was a single yellow flower she had brought home from Claudia’s garden.

“Special occasion?” I asked, pulling out a chair.