Chapter 1

On our twelfth anniversary, my husband took his ex-wife to the overlook I had reserved for us.

The person behind the camera was the stepdaughter I had helped raise for twelve years.

Leah uploaded the photo to our shared family album.

Her caption read: My parents, finally back where they belong.

She deleted it less than ten seconds later.

But I had already taken a screenshot.

Deleting the picture could hide it from the album. It could not put me back inside the family she had photographed.

Nine hours earlier, I had been standing in our kitchen, drawing the final blue line in my road atlas.

The route began at our front door, followed the coast past the lighthouse Graham had always promised to show me, and ended at Cape Alder.

I had booked the inn for two nights. Our raincoats, coffee, and the green thermos we had used for twelve years were already in the trunk.

At the top of the page, I had written: June 27. No changes for anyone.

Graham appeared in the doorway with his travel bag over one shoulder.

“Mara, we can’t go today.”

“Why?”

“Leah got into a fight at school yesterday. She’s been suspended for two days, and she only wants to be with her biological parents.”

The blue pencil stopped against the paper.

Leah had been four when I became part of her life.

When she got her first period at twelve, I brought clean jeans to her school.

When she applied for a summer job at fifteen, I helped her rewrite her résumé four times.

Just last month, she had asked me to visit college campuses with her.

But today, I wasn’t included in the word parents.

“Celeste is going too?” I asked.

“She’s Leah’s mother.” Graham sighed. “Don’t make today about you. You’ve always been more mature than she is.”

He said it as if maturity were a permit that allowed people to walk straight over me.

He leaned forward to kiss my forehead. I closed the atlas and stepped back.

“Where are you going?”

“Somewhere quiet outside the city. I’ll call you tonight.”

He picked up the atlas from the table.

“Don’t get it wet,” I said automatically. “It has twelve years of routes in it.”

“I know how important it is to you.”

Now the atlas was open to page 214 in the photograph.

Celeste wore Graham’s navy rain jacket. One hand rested against his chest. He held my atlas while the wind lifted the page, pressing my blue route against the side of her face.

Graham wasn’t looking at the camera.

He was looking down at her.

Our anniversary dinner for two was still sitting on the table. I didn’t call him. I didn’t ask Leah why she had deleted the photo.

I saved the screenshot to my private email account, then opened the family calendar.

Sunday dinner: canceled.

Leah’s Monday pickup: canceled.

The final venue check for Walter’s retirement lunch: canceled.

No one had ever officially assigned those jobs to me. Whenever something needed to be finished, everyone simply looked in my direction.

That night, I removed myself from the schedule.

Three minutes later, Graham sent me a voice message. I could hear waves in the background.

I could also hear Celeste laughing.

“Mara, don’t ask me to choose right now,” he said. “You’ve always been the understanding one.”