Ben had brought over a small rice-paper screen, which was set up at the other side of the coffee table, the idea being that Lauren’s spirit would come and sit on the other side of it. On the table was a picture of her taken on their wedding day, her eyes shining, her skin perfect, her lips curved in a smile full of love. Next to the table was the dogwood tree, a full foot taller than it had been last year.

Josh knew he would do this jesa only this once. That after today, the first year would be over, and all those firsts would be done. But he needed to mark this day somehow, and the whole year that had passed. He’d invited everyone close to her—Jen and her family, Donna and her boyfriend Bill, Sarah, Radley, Asmaa, and Lauren’s boss, Bruce. Sumi and his mom, and Ben, of course.

When everyone had arrived and stood in the living room, he opened the living room window to let in her spirit. A few seconds later, he closed it. Hope you made it inside, babe, he thought, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Jen’s face was already wet with tears, and Sebastian’s eyes were round and solemn. Octavia was asleep on Darius’s shoulder. Donna and Bill held hands, Donna’s eyes red-rimmed. Sarah and Radley stood together. Asmaa stood next to Bruce, her arm through his. Ben had his arm around Sumi. Everyone watched in silence.

Josh knelt in front of the table and lit the incense—ironic, since Lauren hated incense. Don’t let that keep you away, he thought, almost smiling. Then Jen handed him a cup of rice wine, which he circled over the table. He’d spent all week studying the ceremony notes Ben gave him, but if he got some wrong, he was sure Lauren would forgive him. He poured a little wine into the sand three times, then laid a pair of chopsticks across the rice bowl.

He turned to Donna and bowed to her, the mother, and then repeated the gesture to Jen, honoring her family. Tears were on everyone’s cheeks now, and all was quiet except for the sound of sniffling.

Josh stood and faced the photo of his wife, his heart gripped in a vise. “Lauren Rose Carlisle Park,” he said, his voice surprisingly steady, “I call your name as the year changes, and the day on which you died has come. I will love you forever and will never forget your love, as big and wide as the heavens. In your honor, I humbly offer you this meal.” Then he knelt in front of the table, looking at her picture for a minute, then bowed so his forehead touched the cool floor.

He stayed there a minute, tears flooding his eyes. So much love, so much sorrow. I miss you, he thought. Please be safe. Please be happy.