My family refused to pick me up from the airport after I buried my husband overseas—they had no idea what I had arranged to appear on the evening news the very next day.

Sophie was the only one whose eyes remained on me. “Grandma, I’m sorry.”

I gently touched her cheek, walked upstairs into the bedroom, removed Jason’s label from the rocking chair, and sat down. For the first time since leaving Switzerland, I finally slept.

Weeks later, I sat behind Henry’s desk at the foundation office, reviewing scholarship applications with Claire. My phone lit up with a text from Sophie asking if she could visit for the weekend.

I poured a fresh cup of coffee, placed it on the opposite side of the desk just as Henry used to do, and typed a single word in reply: Yes.