He gave a faint, sad smile.

“You don’t let me take shortcuts.”

“Not the ones that ask someone else to carry everything.”

That evening he booked his first counseling appointment.

PART 14: A Voice in a Wooden Box

The old cottage held no secret passage and no shocking bloodstain.

It held mildew, gull feathers, and a wooden box beneath Rosalind’s desk.

Inside were tapes she had made when Pearl was little, recording bedtime stories with sound and sign descriptions so the child could revisit them later.