“Your mother is gone. Tears won’t bring her back—so wipe your face, make dinner, and don’t look like a grieving child when my guests arrive.” That was what my husband said.

The sturdy, tall iron gate closed slowly, forever separating my world from Marks. Mark was left outside the gate, clinging to the cold bars, looking at this house that now shone warm and bright. He realized that the gates of the paradise he had been living in had closed forever. And now he had to face the earthly hell he had created for himself. I turned and walked away from the window. I didn’t want to see him again. I took a deep breath, inhaling the air of the room that now felt more spacious, though still messy. Mr. Harrison gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder and a paternal encouraging smile.