“She talked about you all the time,” Paloma added. “When Caroline told me what was happening, I wanted to help.”
“When can you move in?” I asked.
She smiled softly. “My things are in the car.”
By Sunday afternoon, my house no longer felt empty.
At 4:47, my phone buzzed.
We’re almost there. Fifteen minutes out.
My heart pounded, but my hands were steady.
When the key scraped uselessly against the lock, I felt something like calm.
The doorbell rang.
I opened the door.
