At a table laden with meat and seafood, my mother-in-law was the only person who left me with an empty plate: “We’ve run out of food for you.”

year after the divorce, my company celebrated its tenth anniversary at an upscale restaurant. My team, closest friends, and father were all there.

Paula sat on my right; my father sat on my left.

Before the main course, the waiter placed a polished empty white plate in front of me.

For a fraction of a second, my chest tightened.

It looked almost identical to the plate from that night.

Paula immediately noticed. “Mariana? Are you okay?”

I stared at the gleaming porcelain, then looked around the table.

No one was