The fabric was dusty, but it still smelled faintly of lavender sachet.

I decided to take it to the cleaners down on Main Street the next morning.

On Monday, the paperwork from Vance and Associates arrived in a thick manila envelope.

I sat at the dining room table and read every page.

The words were full of legal jargon, but the meaning was clear.

The mortgage was secure, and the debt was fully satisfied.

I signed the acknowledgement forms with a pen that didn’t leak.

As I licked the envelope to seal it, I felt a strange sense of peace.

The past was finally settled.

The house belonged to us again, free and clear.

***

Tuesday evening arrived with a light drizzle that made the pavement glisten.

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, putting the finishing touches on my hair.

The green dress fit well, perhaps a little looser than it had five years ago, but it felt comfortable.

I wore a simple pearl necklace that had belonged to my mother.

Rachel came into the room, holding a small bottle of perfume.