“They asked about you,” Matthew said over the phone.

“What did you tell them?” I asked.

“I told them you were a victim of his deception,” he said.

“Thank you, Matthew.”

“It was the truth,” he said.

I hung up the phone and looked at my desk.

It was piled with legal briefs and files for my new clients.

My name had been restored to the glass door of the office.

Inés Valcárcel, Attorney at Law.

One afternoon, a letter arrived from the prison in Soto del Real.

The envelope was made of cheap paper.

My name was written in Alvaro’s handwriting.

I did not open it.

I took the silver letter opener from my desk.

I sliced the envelope in half, then in quarters.

I dropped the pieces into the wastebasket beside my chair.

There was no room for his voice in our lives anymore.

The children were adjusting to their new school.

They did not ask about their father as much now.

Their days were filled with homework, sports, and new friends.

On weekends, we drove out to the countryside.