before me. The project was my baby, the culmination of years of work. I spent the entire day making notes, finalizing details

n-command with a simple subject line: "Final Project Files." I didn'

ed. It was a

king me out to dinner to cheer me up. They said I shouldn't worry, th

n the photo, she was holding up a delicate porcelain teacup, a gift from Ismael' s recent trip to Japan. It was part of a set he had given me for my thirtieth birthday. On her wrist was

ent smile. I felt nothing. No anger, no jealousy. Just a profound, qu

ter. It was short and professional. I cited personal reasons and a de

called m

teady. "And everything in it. List it as a tur

other end. "Angelina? Are you sur

said. "Price

old photo albums. Pictures of me, Danial, and Ismael as kids, grinning with missing teeth. As teenagers, awkward a

tch and dropped it onto the first page. The glossy paper curled, turned black, an

is races around the world, a dried corsage from a prom Danial had

ael walked in, laughing about somethi

oing?" Danial' s voice

his face pale. "Are those

mes without looking at them. The pl

clutter," I

that's our whole lives! How could you?" He reached toward the fi

face to the fire, his expression a mixture of anger and confusion. "Stop it.

looked at their pained faces, at the genuine hurt in their eyes.

they found out I was selling the house we had all picked out together, the house they still had keys to.