I turned around and gazed at the empty room. Memories of my beloved father took hold. Mom had teased the hornet’s nest, and I remembered waiting anxiously for him to return home from work trips, or staying up late to catch a good-night kiss. It became harder as I got older, but one of my most treasured images was his face beaming out from the audience during my high school and college graduations. I thought of the simmering resentment toward my mother for her consistent intrusion on my privacy, of her endless questions and constant doting. I had wanted my daughter to have freedom. I wanted to be the mother I dreamed of having, and yet somehow, I’d lost both of those roles along the way.

Exhaustion shook me in its grip. I longed to close my eyes and not think, but I had a job to finish and the hours were ticking away. I needed to work. I’d sort through everything later.

It was five a.m. when I unfolded myself from my desk and took a shower. I’d stolen an hour or two of rest throughout the night, but the revised proposal was complete. We weren’t due for breakfast for a few hours, but I was craving coffee, so I threw on yoga pants and a black T-shirt, ran my fingers through my hair, and made my way down to the lobby.

Only a few stragglers sat at the coffee bar, so I ordered a cappuccino and brought it outside. The terrace was empty, and the tables and chairs held a sheen of rainwater. I strolled down the short path and into a small garden. The scents of damp earth and lush blooms filled the air. Birds serenaded in sweet tunes. The sun eased upward into the sky for the start of a new day. I sipped my coffee and thought about my decisions along the way, and what my mother had told me, and if I had made more wrong choices than right. I wondered if my insistence on doing this job myself centered around my fear not only of failure but of not being important enough. I imagined Allegra slipping further away, until the tentative thread that kept us together snapped, leaving me utterly alone.

Like my mother.

This time, the attack came on hard and fast. There was no time to try to regulate my breathing or think happy thoughts. Immediately, my chest seized and drove the breath from my lungs. My heart slammed against my chest in a pounding rhythm, and I began to shake, my vision blurring as pure terror pulsed through me. A sound ripped from my throat. The cup dropped out of my hands and shattered. I bent over, gasping for breath and sanity.