Three months after losing Sarah, Emma stood in the foundation's headquarters for the first time since the bed rest had begun.
The staff had maintained everything beautifully. Donations were stable. The new programs were thriving. But Emma felt like a stranger in her own organization.
"Welcome back," her assistant said warmly. "We've missed you."
Emma managed a smile, but it felt forced. Everything felt forced lately—smiles, conversations, pretending life was normal when nothing felt normal anymore.
Alexander had returned to Sterling Industries two weeks ago, though he still worked half-days, reluctant to leave Emma alone for too long. They were both fragile, both healing, both trying to figure out what their life looked like now.
The therapist had warned them—grief wasn't linear. Some days would be better than others. Some moments would feel bearable, others would shatter them all over again.
Today was a shattering day.
