At 2 A.M., a Hidden

pictures. Denise cried. Claire made a toast and called Noah “the happiest little hurricane in Connecticut.”

Near sunset, after everyone left, Ava and I stood in the kitchen surrounded by plates, wrapping paper, and deflated balloons.

She looked tired.

But it was a normal tired.

A full-day tired.

Not fear.

Not defeat.

She leaned against the counter and said,continue reading …