felt.
Now it was simply a message.
I typed four words.
Merry Christmas to you.
Then I turned my phone facedown.
I went upstairs, adjusted Noah’s blanket, moved Lily’s elephant away from her face, and switched off the hallway light.
Before entering my bedroom, I paused beside a framed photograph near the stairs.
It wasn’t a wedding picture.
I no longer displayed those.
The photograph had been taken the previous summer.
Noah sat on Dad’s shoulders.
Lily held Mother’s hand.
I stood between them, laughing at something outside the frame.
