The Night I Took Our Daughter Away
That night was supposed to belong to Mia.
She had spent a month practicing for her first piano recital. I had cooked all afternoon, set the table, and helped her into the pale blue dress Luca loved. She stood beside the piano, cheeks flushed, fingers trembling with excitement.
Then Luca's phone rang.
Vivienne was spiraling again.
After Luca's older brother died, his widow never really came back from it. On her worst nights, she forgot the difference between the dead husband she had lost and the brother-in-law who kept showing up to save her.
And Luca always showed up.
Every time Vivienne broke, he left us behind. Every time he came home, he brought apologies, pretty gifts, and promises for n
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