When Paige came back, Violet taught us a song Rose used to hum while washing dishes.

I did not recognize the melody, but by the third verse I was singing along.

The storm continued outside.

Inside, a stranger’s memory was becoming a family song.

Later Gregory and I stood by the bedroom window.

“I wish I’d known I could tell you about being afraid,” he said.

“You could have,” I answered gently.

“But you have to choose it next time.”