I married David on a Saturday in June. It was a small ceremony. Just family. Just friends. Margaret was my maid of honor. Diane Kessler came. Some of the people from the north shore came. The people whose homes I had helped save.
David was a teacher. He liked hiking. He read mystery novels. He made me laugh. He had never lied to me. He had never made me a promise he couldn't keep.
He was not Calvin Ashworth. That was the point.
After the ceremony, we went back to the house on the east side. We sat on the porch and watched the sun set over the harbor. The same harbor that Calvin had tried to destroy. The same water that had almost swallowed the truth.
I thought about the invitation that had arrived in the mail. The christening. The baby. The life that Calvin had built on a foundation of
