For two days after Mary left, Daniel moved through the house like a man trapped in a dream he couldn't wake from.
Her shawl still hung over the back of the armchair. Her teacup - half full - sat on the kitchen counter. Every room smelled faintly of her, like she had just stepped out for a moment and might return any second.
But she didn't.
The children noticed immediately. Joshua became quieter than usual, spending more time in his room. Grace kept asking when their mother would be back, each time with a little less confidence in her voice. And Caleb - too young to understand - wandered through the house calling "Mama" until he got tired and fell asleep in Daniel's lap.
On the third day, Daniel took them to see her. He stood outside Ruth's house, the children clustered close to him, their hands gripping his shirt.
When the door opened, it wasn't Mary - it was her aunt. Her expression was stiff.
"We've come to see their mother," Daniel said.
The aunt didn't move to let them in. "She's resting. She needs peace right now."
Joshua's voice broke in. "We just want to see her for a minute."
"I'm sorry," the aunt said, her tone flat. "She's not ready for visitors."
"They are not visitors," Daniel snapped. "They are her children."
But the door closed before he could say anything more.
Grace buried her face in his shirt and started to cry. Joshua turned away quickly, blinking hard. Caleb, confused, reached for the door handle until Daniel gently pulled him back.
That night, Daniel sat alone in the living room while the children slept, the quiet pressing down on him. He thought of Mary's face that last day - how she had looked at him with doubt instead of trust. He wondered what lies they were telling her now, what picture they were painting in her mind.
Every instinct in him wanted to fight, to demand her return. But he also knew that charging in would only make her family dig their heels deeper.
He decided he would try again in a few days. In the meantime, he would keep the children's lives as normal as possible, even though nothing about life felt normal anymore.
Still, late at night, when the house was silent, he could feel the emptiness in the space beside him on the bed - like a wound that refused to close.