The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, the kind of sunset Emma had always loved. As she set the table for dinner, her hands trembled slightly. Four plates, four glasses, and four chairs. But one chair, at the head of the table, would remain empty tonight.

Her husband, Daniel, had always been the life of their dinners. His jokes, his laughter, his stories—they filled the room like sunshine. But tonight, the silence was deafening.

Emma turned toward the kitchen, trying to busy herself. The aroma of roasted chicken...