She didn’t ask whether Derek had called or whether lawyers were going to send another letter.

She was talking because she expected to be heard.

I reached for my toast and realized I’d spent the entire breakfast thinking about the present instead of repairing the past.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Are you happy?”

It was the same kind of question she had asked in the dark months before the gala.

Back then, I had searched for an answer that would reassure her without admitting how lost I felt.