She finally got to let out the chest-wringing breath she had been holding in since Bliss’ death. She had felt it—the puppy pushing its face close to hers, whimpering with her as she sobbed.

It was consoling her. She imagined that was what Bliss would have done too.

Deirdre cast her eyes to the ground. The storm clouds that had seemed to be permanent on her mien faded, and Brendan was the sole witness of her subtle transformation.

While he managed to observe Deirdre’s change, he was blind to his own. The trademark severity in his visage had softened into meek, wistful joy.

They walked for a while until, suddenly, Deirdre stopped. Brendan almost lost her, but he paused and turned around. “What’s wrong?”

She scanned her surroundings with a frown. “A child’s crying.”

“A child?” Brendan was a little surprised. They were at the fork of a busy street flooded with couples and office workers going about their day. There was not a single child in sight.

“Could it be some kind of hallu