Neither was my brother, nor my sister.

They were still at sea, still posting to the world — one photo of my mother lifting a glass of champagne against the sunset, captioned Last night in paradise. I looked at it once, and I did not comment, and I put the phone in a drawer.

Chapter 14 — The Mantel

On Tuesday afternoon a car pulled into the driveway.

I had set Walt’s brass urn on the mantel in the living room, and around it I had placed the things that told the truth of him: his Marine Corps ring, a framed photograph of him in uniform, a copy of his revised will, and the official police receipt for the bottle of tap water that was supposed to have been his medicine.

Ramona and the notary sat quietly on the sofa with me.