The yard went silent.
Marianne.
I’d met her once during Robert’s cancer treatment. She’d brought food to our house, sat beside his recliner, and talked quietly with him while I washed dishes.
Robert had introduced her as someone he knew through a support group.
That had been months ago.
I hadn’t known she was still in his life.
I’d met her once during Robert’s cancer treatment.
« Kirsten, » Robert said.
His voice had the same careful tone he used before difficult appointments.
I looked at him.
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