Elliot said he was ashamed that he had stayed silent. I believed him. He had always found honesty easier than confrontation, which caused problems of its own, but at least he was finally acknowledging his part in what had happened. I listened without making excuses for him or asking him to defend Sabine.

That evening, I watched a video of Sabine’s mother opening the gifts her daughter had carefully arranged for her. I found myself thinking about what it must feel like to have a child who planned so thoughtfully for you. My anger toward Sabine’s mother disappeared because she had never known about the text or the hurt it caused. She had not asked to be caught in the middle. So I called her, not to complain about her daughter, but to invite her to join me at the smaller, three-bedroom chalet. I invited her alone, along with her sister if she wished. A few days later, she arrived with a small suitcase, and we settled in as snow began falling beyond the windows.