Today was a wonderful day for Abbey Donne (née Feine). She felt the sun’s warmth on her skin, the thin cotton dress clinging to her lithe body as a gentle breeze blew in from the Pacific. She stood in the backyard of their home, one of a cluster of houses in the affluent Santa Cruz neighbourhood on the California coastline. Her husband, Clancy, a man she had been married to for fifteen years, had bought the house with a considerable inheritance after his father’s death. Her father-in-law, Peter, a retired architect, had suffered a stroke; his wife had passed away when Clancy was still in school.

House hunting had been both an exciting and stressful experience. It took them five months and over forty viewings before they fell in love with this one. It was their piece of heaven. The house had five bedrooms, all with en-suites, a large, modern kitchen with stainless steel fittings that flowed into the dining area and beyond to the living room. The backyard was expansive, with a decent pool and a well-maintained garden. Clancy would jokingly call it “our haven, our own place.” It was true. The kids adored it, too. John, the eldest, was fourteen, Sean was twelve, and Ruth, their eight-year-old “baby,” was the darling of the family. They loved the location, the house’s proximity to schools, and the town centre, just ten minutes away.

Abbey felt a deep, internal warmth spread through her body and soul as she took in her fortunate disposition. It was a Sunday afternoon. Clancy was out golfing with friends, and she watched her three children play. The two boisterous boys jostled with each other, their baby sister trying to get in on the action, her giggles a sound that brought an easy smile to Abbey’s face. A feeling of pure contentment settled over her, but her mind couldn’t help but drift back to the dark days, a time when getting out of bed felt like a monumental chore.

Her life was a tapestry of bright and dark colours, interwoven, sometimes seamlessly, other times a messy tangle. She pieced the story together from her own fragmented memories and snippets from family members. There had been a time when she wondered if the pain would ever cease. It wasn’t physical, but a devastating psychological and emotional rollercoaster caused by a series of harsh, heart-rending, gut-wrenching events that had compounded over time. These thoughts and emotions would still roll through her psyche, a relentless echo, like the waves that constantly pounded the seashore.