She talked to Daniel. She had always done this privately and had long ago stopped feeling self-conscious about it. She told him about Owen. She told him about Felix and the worms. She touched the glass over his face and sat quietly for a moment. Then Richard appeared in the doorway, coat in hand, and held out his other hand to her.
She stood. She tucked Daniel’s photograph under her arm, took Richard’s hand, and walked out with him through the old rose garden and down the long gravel driveway toward the car. She understood well enough by now that grief didn’t leave you. She walked toward the car, for the first time in a very long time, like a woman with permission to breathe.