Seven Years After My Daughter’s Funeral, I Followed Her Husband to a Rehabilitation Center—And Saw a Woman I Thought Was Dead

Ava carried a blanket.

I put out a plate of cookies.

Melissa chose the seat closest to the garden.

For a while, we talked about Ava’s school.

The teacher who assigned too much homework.

The cafeteria pizza.

The photograph beside the school sign.

Then Melissa asked about Dorothy’s cooking.