At 3:15 a.m., I heard my son whisper my card’s four-digit code to his wife and say, “Take it all out—she has over $80,000 in there.”

Saturday dawned gray, one of those days where the sky seems to be the same color as your dark thoughts. I got up early as always, made my coffee, sat by the window, and watched the empty street as the steam rose from my cup.

It had been three days without seeing Mark or Clare—three days of silence after that argument. Part of me wanted to believe they had given up, that they understood I