I spend the first hour of that morning writing an email to my old boss, essentially begging for my job back. I know it’s useless. She hadn’t been bluffing when she’d implied I was reckless for leaving it, that they could replace me in minutes. But why not try? At this point, I have nothing to lose.

Then I spend another two hours reaching out to all my old friends. The ones whose messages I’d ignored for months. I apologize. I say I miss them, that I’m ready to hang out again.

I text Gavin and Beth, separately, Thank you. And then I email my father’s lawyer, the executor of his estate. I propose some times to meet with her, to finally go over all the assets, the stock portfolio, the rights to his literary estate, to tie up those loose ends once and for all. To let my father rest in peace.

And then I book an appointment with a therapist. A woman whose name some well-meaning friend sent to me after my father’s funeral, who I’d never reached out to. Someone who I, jobless but with some of my dad’s inherited estate, can thankfully afford.

As morning sunlight filters through my curtains onto my open laptop, revealing the dust specks on my computer screen, I do something I’ve tried a few times before. I reactivate my Facebook account, type in Georgia’s name, and look at her profile. Married, with two kids, living in Accord, New York. Her profile picture is her family, two blonde preteens in mismatched, baggy outfits, her husband pudgy and bald but smiling, embracing Georgia tenderly, his face wrinkled with love. This time, I add her as a friend.

And then I wait. For all the pieces to come together or crash apart.

32

April 1997

Annie sits with suzy at breakfast, helps her cut up her Mickey Mouse–shaped pancake, wipes syrup from her lips. Makes an extra batch when she squeals, “Pancakes, please!” even after devouring three. She watches Mr. Keller sip absently at his coffee, staring out at the brightening morning, the edges of his newspaper seeping into a syrup-soaked spot on the table.

He has an appointment in the city today. He won’t be back until the evening. Serena has left for the day, replaced by Christine. Christine will leave an hour earlier than usual. Serena will come an hour later. Mrs. Keller has told them she is seeing a friend, saying goodbye. It’s not too far from the truth.

He kisses Suzy on the head. “I’ll be down in fifteen. That fine with you, Annie?” She is driving him to the train station before dropping Suzy off at school. She nods, peels the sticky newsprint from the tabletop as he exits the room.