Graham folded the letter along its original crease and returned it to the envelope. Willa was still adjusting to Laurel’s house, beginning to sleep through the night again, and gradually speaking about the gala without checking every adult’s expression before finishing a sentence. Whatever Celeste needed from the letter could wait. Graham placed it in a locked drawer and decided that if Willa ever read it, the timing would belong to her.
For the first time since the gala, Graham understood that protecting his daughter might require him to tolerate uncertainty rather than solve it. He still loved his wife, and Willa still feared the possibility of seeing her again, which meant both truths would have to exist without one erasing the other. The family had survived the night at the gala, but the harder work would happen over the years that followed, when no single decision could repair what had been broken and every adult would have to prove who they were through what they did next.