had learned how to function around the grief.
I planned a small party at home with balloons, cake, relatives, friends, and neighbors.
Mia and Owen covered themselves in frosting while everyone laughed.
For a while, it felt like a normal first birthday.
But every celebration after Daniel’s death contained another version in my imagination.
The version where he was still there.
After the guests left, I started cleaning.
Carol stopped me.
“I need to get something.”
She went outside and returned carrying a large box.
The moment I saw the
