I stared at the image, and something in me that had already broken that night broke again, in a new place.

“That’s Rachel,” I said.

“That’s my sister.

Marcus, that’s my sister standing next to him.”

“Your husband,” Marcus said, and his voice was gentle, because he could see what it was doing to me, “was not planning to keep this to himself.

He had a partner, Clara.

I’m sorry.

There’s a great deal you don’t know yet, and almost none of it is good.