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recording ended.

Nobody spoke.

We simply held each other and cried.

Later that afternoon, we cut three slices of birthday cake.

One for Leila.

One for me.

And one for Nora.

For the first time since losing her, the empty chair no longer felt like a reminder of death.

It felt like a place reserved for love.

My wife got pulled over for speeding, and after the continue reading …