A home should not require one person to disappear so everyone else can feel comfortable.

I looked toward the hallway, where the little bench Madeline had built still stood beneath the light.

Tomorrow I would buy fresh flowers, call Rose to arrange lunch, and take a long walk without explaining where I was going.

They were ordinary plans.

That was what made them precious.

At four forty the next morning, I woke briefly to the sound of rain tapping on the roof.

My heart raced for a moment out of old habit.

Then I remembered where I was and what had changed.

No one stood over my bed demanding breakfast.

No one was waiting downstairs to tell me I had failed.

I pulled the blanket up around my shoulders and went peacefully back to sleep.

THE END.