I locked the house and drove to Burlington, and for the first time in weeks, I felt something close to peace. The condo was warm. The lake was grey and beautiful beyond the balcony glass. I unpacked my kettle, my books, and the loon magnet, which I stuck on the little condo refrigerator, where it looked entirely at home.
The next afternoon, I sat on my new balcony with Earl Grey and a blanket over my knees, watching the winter light move across the water.
My phone buzzed.
Doorbell camera motion alert.
I opened the app.
Three SUVs and a minivan were pulling into my old driveway.
People began spilling out with suitcases, coolers, garment bags, and food.
Fifteen of them.
Exactly as promised.
Erica came up the walk in a faux-fur coat. Craig followed with two duffel bags, his head down the way it had been in my kitchen weeks before.
Then Erica reached into her purse.
There it was.
My brass key.
She slid it into the lock.
The door opened.