That afternoon I went to the cemetery with Tanya. We took away the old white roses and set down sunflowers, the flowers Katherine truly loved. My granddaughter left her drawing of a house with windows and a bright yellow star against the gravestone, then asked me to read The Brave Little Rabbit.

I read it in a trembling but steady voice, holding her close.

When I finished the last page, a soft wind stirred the sunflowers.

“Did you see that, Grandma?” Tanya said, pointing.

“See what, my love?”

“My mom did win,” she said, smiling.