there’s one more piece.”
“What piece?”
“A public trigger,” she said. “Something that makes them step into the open.”
I watched Vanessa smiling through artificial tears on the screen.
“I can do that,” I said.
Three days afterward, I invited my relatives over.
Vanessa brought a realtor. Dad arrived with property-transfer documents. Mother carried a casserole.
Not one brought flowers for Daniel, Eli, or Rose.
Dad laid the papers on my dining table.
“Sign,” he said. “This is for your own good.”
I lifted the pen.
Vanessa smiled.
Then I
