Her divorce from Mark took three months from start to finish, but she’d moved in with Taryn the day she and Mark agreed to separate, which was the day after he’d walked out. Joy didn’t contest anything. They evenly split their assets, except the brownstone. The house was never theirs. It belongs to his parents.

After she and Mark signed the paperwork to finalize their divorce, Joy invited him to coffee. She worried that he’d be angry with her. Does he resent her for marrying him? But he seemed happy. He was dating a woman from his office. Andi. Joy had met her at a company function some years back and has run into her time and again since. She likes Andi, and she’ll be good for Mark. She comes from an old New York family, and she wants children. Lots of them. Joy doubts they’ll waste any time getting started on their first.

Once they finished, and before they parted ways, Joy turned to Mark. “I should have told you about Judy a long time ago. I wish I did.”

He looked past her into the distance, his face closed. “Me too.” He sighed, regretful, and looked back at her. “I hope you find a way to let go of whatever is holding you back.”

“I will.” She was already seeing a therapist who specialized in family trauma. “I do love you,” she said with sincerity.

“I know.” Mark looked at the ground, then lifted his head. “Goodbye, Joy.” He gave her a hug, then hailed a cab.

Joy turns away from the kitchen window and lifts the lid off Judy’s box. A waterfall of memories and emotions pour out. This will be the last time she goes through the box, yet she vividly remembers the first time. The day she lifted the box from Judy’s room.

She’d been standing in Judy’s bedroom doorway, stunned to find the door open. It was the first time she had seen the inside of Judy’s room since her sister’s funeral five months prior. She couldn’t bear going in there, not after what she’d done. Thankfully, her parents kept the door shut, that is, until that day.

Judy’s blinds had been opened to let in the morning light. Empty cardboard boxes sat open on the floor, waiting to be fed records, books, and other knickknacks. Dresser drawers had been pulled open, the clothes removed and stacked on the bed. A noise came from the closet, plastic hangers scraping across the wood clothes rod. Her dad appeared with an armful of skirts. He dropped them on the bed and returned to the closet.

“What are you doing?” Joy asked, going into the room.