Calvin’s new wife had lost her own daughter only a few years earlier. Ashley knew this in broad terms, the way we sometimes carry facts without context. Grief hovered around Rowena like something unspoken, present but sealed off, and acknowledged only through silence and restraint.
Rowena’s daughter had been twenty-three when she died. An accident, everyone said. No details were ever offered, and Ashley never asked. It felt inappropriate, almost intrusive, to push for answers. The absence of explanation became its own kind of boundary, one that everyone silently respected.