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