YOUR SISTER TOLD YOU TO HIDE IN THE ATTIC AND NOT TELL YOUR HUSBAND—THEN YOU FOUND THE PASSPORTS UNDER THE FLOORBOARDS

for dinner with his fiancée, a sharp, warm young woman named Claire who asks direct questions and laughs easily. After dessert, rain starts tapping softly against the windows.

Noah looks at you.

You look at him.

For a moment, everything returns.

Then he reaches across the table and squeezes your hand.

“I’m here,” he says quietly.

Your throat tightens.

“I continue reading …