Still, I knew I could not simply sit inside and hope someone happened to visit.
Michael was right about my isolation. It might be days before anyone became concerned. It might be longer.
So I returned to the house, closed the door, and began to think.
I thought about Margaret.
I remembered how she used to tell me I was too stubborn for my own good. Whenever I refused to abandon a difficult repair or admit that a project was beyond me, she would roll her eyes, smile, and say I did not know how to quit.
I could almost hear her voice in the quiet living room.
Hold your ground, David.
Find another way.
That was what we had always done.
We fought for our family.
We fought for our home.
We did not give up simply because the road ahead became difficult.
Standing among the photographs and furniture we had chosen together, I began to form a plan.
