As they packed up their briefcases, I looked at Greg one last time.

“Silence from me going forward is not forgiveness, Greg,” I said coldly. “It is absolute, permanent disgust.”

Two weeks later, Greg’s wealth management firm fired him with cause. The insurance company permanently denied his claim and forwarded his file to the state prosecutor for wire fraud.

He was ruined. But my work was just beginning.

I moved to Juneau six months after my daughter died.

I didn’t move all at once. Grief works in small, painful increments. I took over the month-to-month lease on Sarah’s modest apartment. I kept her chipped coffee mugs in the cupboard and the colorful magnets from her students on the refrigerator.

I took the legal pad of Greg’s stolen finances and the insurance payout, and I officially launched the Sarah Lawson Educational Foundation.