I set my leather bag on the wooden changing table and opened the side pocket.

I took out the framed Cape Cod engagement photo and looked at it under the dim nightlight.

The young woman in the photo was smiling into the wind, completely unaware of the debt ledgers, hidden second phones, and frozen accounts waiting six years ahead.

I didn’t feel hatred for Cole, and I didn’t feel the hollow terror that had gripped me on Christmas Eve while the babies cried in the kitchen.

I felt only a quiet, heavy certainty that the past was over and could no longer reach into this room.