“A small wooden chest.

Some letters, photographs, a set of house keys that no longer open anything, and the original plans for the Maple Avenue house.

Nothing that changes who owns it.

I promise you that.”

That last sentence mattered more than Patricia could have known.

Since I left Gavin, nearly everyone who contacted me had wanted something: a signature, forgiveness, another chance to explain, access to my home.

Patricia sounded like the first person who wanted only to give something back.