I wanted to protect them from the storm that was coming.

If Daniel’s family fell apart, the fallout would hit them too.

I went back to the kitchen and closed my laptop.

I turned off the lights.

The house was dark, lit only by the distant sweep of the coastal lighthouse.

I walked up the stairs to my bedroom.

I lay down on the bed, still dressed in my clothes.

I slept fitfully, dreaming of numbers and signatures sliding off pages into the ocean.

The next morning, the sun rose gray and cold over the water.

I made breakfast for the children.

They ate their cereal while talking about building a fort on the beach.

“Can we go after school?” Lily asked, looking up at me.

“Of course,” I said, forcing a smile.

“We’ll find some big pieces of driftwood.”

The school bus arrived at eight o’clock.

I watched them walk down the gravel driveway, their backpacks bouncing.

Once the bus disappeared around the bend, the silence returned.

I stood on the porch, holding a mug of warm coffee.

The air tasted like salt.