I want Nina back, too, no longer for me, but for her daughter. What if I can’t do this? There’s so much to learn, so many things to get wrong. The vibrant undersea mural Nina painted on Em’s wall is exquisite. I couldn’t paint anything nearly as good. Self-doubt gnaws. It’s not too late—yet—to gently back off, ease myself out, but the thought of venturing out again into the unknown, possibly throwing away my one chance at being a mother, is terrifying. Why risk it? I must consider the long-term.

Outside, I hear a car on the gravel. It must be Stuart and Felix, thankfully.

I rush downstairs and fling open the front door, but there is no one there and no car. Wishful thinking has played tricks on me. Except...I know what I heard.

It’s as I shut the door that I see it: a blank white envelope. Assuming it’s a random advertising ploy, I pick it up intending to place it straight in the recycling. Yet, curiosity takes hold. I open it. It’s a photo of this house with Nina sitting on the stone steps leading up to the front door, both arms around younger versions of Felix and Emily. She’s smiling, happy. For such an innocent picture, its delivery method turns it into something sinister, a seemingly unmistakable message to me that I don’t belong.

I stand still, staring.

“Marie!” Emily’s voice.

“I’m coming,” I shout back automatically, folding the picture in two before shoving it into my jeans pocket.

I read Emily a story, but my mind most definitely is not on wizards or witches.

“They’re home,” I say to Emily when I hear the front door open.

She has stopped crying but has exhausted herself, so remains on her bed.

Stuart is carrying a sleeping Felix upstairs in his arms.

“It’s just a viral infection,” he says quietly. “He’ll be fine. He needs to sleep it off, apparently.”

I help slide off Felix’s shoes and put him into his pajamas before Stuart goes and settles Em.

Stuart and I are both quiet over dinner. It’s not the time to mention the photo. I’m horribly aware that if I wasn’t around he’d give in to his grief. He’s going through the motions of eating dinner, being civilized. I need to give him time alone. I wasn’t privy to Stuart and Nina’s final conversations and wishes, obviously. Stuart has seemed fine on the whole, yet this evening has been a wake-up call. There’s so much to adjust to and it has made me reassess. Fresh determination to look out for and nurture Nina’s family takes hold. It’s reassuring to realize quite how much they all need me here.

“I overreacted,” he says. “Nina was amazing with them when they were ill.”

“So are you. We’re both a bit shaken by this evening,” I say. “But it will be okay.”

Stuart gives me a weak smile. His face is pale and he looks like he needs a decent sleep.