Alex was building something out of cereal boxes at the table.
Sam was lying on the floor drawing a bridge with six lanes and no cars.
It was an ordinary Tuesday morning.
And somehow, with one word, Emily had cracked open the life Marcus thought he had destroyed.
“Who called you Mom?” he asked again.
I should have corrected Emily.
That had been the rule.
The children could call me whatever felt comfortable, but I had never encouraged “Mom.”
Amanda had been their mother.
I knew that.
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