Natalie considered it.
“Leave the date,” she said.
“But change what it means.”
Together, they replaced the memorial with a small inscription honoring people who had survived isolation, coercion and false stories told in their names.
Afterward, they returned to the Beverly Hills house.
Richard opened Natalie’s bedroom for the first time since finding the notebook.
Dust covered the desk, but everything else remained where she had left it.
Natalie picked up the notebook and turned through the pages filled with the same accusation.
Don’t be late.
Richard stood in the doorway.
“I can’t repair the years I missed.”
Natalie took a pen from the desk.
“No.”
She wrote beneath the final line, closed the notebook and handed it to him.
Three new words appeared on the page.
He came back.
Richard looked up, but Natalie had already walked toward the hallway.
This time, he did not remain behind with his grief.
He followed her.
