Part 1: The Morning My Dog Wouldn’t Stop Scratching at the Door

to catch up with what my eyes were seeing.

This wasn’t the sweater from the accident.

As that thought settled in, the tightness in my chest shifted. I recognized the stitching, the slight difference in the buttons. This was the second sweater. The extra one I bought months earlier because Lily insisted she needed a backup “just in case.”

I had forgotten continue reading …