myself mentally placing my few cherished possessions within these rooms, imagining new furniture arrangements, considering paint colors that would complement the water views.
For the first time since leaving my old life behind, I was looking forward rather than back—planning for what could be rather than mourning what had been.
“I’d like to make an offer,” I told Sandra as we prepared to leave. “On this one. The blue cottage.”
She nodded, unsurprised.
“I thought you might. Let’s head back to my office and draft the paperwork. With the proceeds
