Kendra went down the porch steps and out of the camera’s frame.

A minute later a black rideshare car pulled in at the end of the driveway.

Its headlights swept over our front lawn, lighting up the dying winter grass.

Kendra got into the back seat.

The car backed out into the street and drove off, leaving the driveway empty once more.

The whole anniversary show was a performance.

The pricey care package, the long loving texts and the movie night story were all calculated distractions meant to keep me in the dark.

I looked down at the metal desk.