Chapter 4

The morning after finding Isabella in my closet, I tried to focus on something normal—something that would ground me in the midst of my crumbling reality. Making Tyler's lunch seemed like the perfect anchor. I carefully spread peanut butter across whole wheat bread, adding just the right amount of strawberry jam—not too much, or it would make the bread soggy by lunchtime. Tyler had always loved my peanut butter sandwiches. It was something small I could control in a world that increasingly felt beyond my grasp.

I cut the sandwich into triangles, the way he preferred, and placed it in…