had learned to ask, and I’d learned to answer honestly, even when the answer disappointed them.
The next transfer into my savings account was already scheduled. I’d no plan to spend every dollar on travel, and I knew I’d return to my condo and my friends. Sanur was not an escape from my family. It was proof to myself that the life I’d built after my husband’s death still belonged to me.
I could picture going home to the oak outside my window and seeing Lucy’s purple-plate drawing on the
