I stared at the woman who had held me at my mother’s funeral.
“You did not honor Mom. You used her.”
Sabrina covered her face.
I left without comforting her.
Rachel reported the threats.
My father gave the police the camera footage.
Sabrina later accepted responsibility and entered counseling as part of the legal process.
My father blamed himself at first.
“I should never have started dating,” he said.
I sat beside him at the kitchen table.
“No. You should have started living sooner.”
Months passed before he tried again.
This time, he told his date the truth about Mom.
He also told her he was afraid of losing another chance at happiness.
Her name was Jocelyn.
She did not vanish the next morning.
When my father called me after their third date, music was playing behind him.
He laughed at something she said.
For the first time in twelve years, the house no longer sounded like a place waiting for someone to return.
