There’s something so sad about how deeply this man grieves. I still have the picture of him and his late wife in my purse. I tell myself that I carry it around with me to prevent someone at the house finding it, but I think the real reason is that it’s become sacred to me. I never knew Emmaline, but I somehow feel as if I did. I could tell by the photo that they loved each other. But I see it even more in the way he’s withdrawn himself from his own life.
