Toby took the job with Francis. At first, I suspected he was doing it purely because he was desperate. Maybe he was. But desperation is not always a bad beginning. Two months in, Francis told me Toby showed up on time, listened well, and had a surprisingly good memory for details. Four months in, Toby asked me to lunch and paid for it himself. It was only a sandwich place by the courthouse, but I nearly cried when the check came and he reached for it without performing gratitude.
Rebecca and I grew closer in the quiet way true closeness usually grows. No dramatic declarations. Just steady presence. Calls on Sunday nights. Errands together. Shared book recommendations. Small acts. She moved into her own apartment with used furniture, mismatched dishes, and more self-respect than most people twice her age. I helped her pick out curtains because she asked for my opinion, not my wallet.
Garrett and Marissa sold the townhouse before the end of summer.
I heard that from Rebecca, not from them.