dn't stop wh

hildren still laughed in the garden Amara planted. The house st

needed to scre

needed to fi

ecome her own voi

's wife, or widow, or mystery but as a woman who had l

's laughter... in Nia's questions... in the

no longer

e d

l l

to be understood. The kind

that sets

d barefoot on the beach watching her children race toward the tide. Wi

d softly

se life w

she was fina

bitter. Not si

t A

at was