“Vivian?” Ms. Byrdie shook her head. “Honey, that young thing is in search of a story because she’s desperate to forget her own. Don’t you worry about her. Now, what did Charlie say?”

She had no reason to hide anything from Ms. Byrdie, but they weren’t two girlfriends chatting about a crush. Charlie was her nephew. And this was more than just a crush. Her heart had begun to long for him in a way that Lane couldn’t ignore any more than she could ignore her depression.

“He told me it wasn’t my fault. That it was an accident.”

“And you don’t believe him.”

Lane’s breath caught in her chest. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t called him—” She choked on the words. “He died because of me.”

Ms. Byrdie wrapped her hand around Lane’s and squeezed. “What happened to Mathias that night was an accident. Plain and simple. That boy loved you to the ends of the earth. Whatever God’s reason was for taking him home that night does not rest on your shoulders.”

A tear slipped down Lane’s cheek. “What if God made a mistake by allowing me to live instead of Mathias?”

“Honey, God never makes mistakes. You are here on purpose, Lane. With purpose.” Ms. Byrdie rose. “Come with me.” She led Lane to the hallway where a large mirror hung on the wall. “Tell me what you see.”

“I don’t know. Me?”

“Come on, look harder. Tell me what you see.”

Looking at her reflection, she didn’t have to try harder. Her hair hung limply over her shoulders. The dark circles under her eyes had darkened, making her fair complexion appear washed out.

“I see someone who needs a haircut but doubts it’ll make a difference. And it wouldn’t hurt for me to spend a few hours in the sun or maybe get some sleep, but those seem to evade me as well.” Exasperation edged her tone and she lacked the courage to look Ms. Byrdie in the eye.

“Here’s what I see.” Ms. Byrdie brushed a piece of Lane’s hair from her forehead. “A woman who has faced tremendous obstacles and tragedy and still finds a way to persevere. Who, in the midst of too many sleepless nights, spends hours putting together ingredients so she can offer some home-baked love and kindness to those others overlook. Someone who looks past the flaws in others and sees their beauty and potential, even when she misses it in herself.”

Tears stung Lane’s eyes. She dropped her gaze at Ms. Byrdie’s words. “I wish I could see those things, but all I see is a broken mess.”