The Hidden Passport and the Final Goodbye My husband, Robert, had always been okay with me going on work trips. He didn’t complain when I traveled, didn’t fuss about watching the kids. In fact, I thought we had a good balance—he supported me, and I supported him. But one work trip changed everything. It started right after his sudden trip overseas. He didn’t even ask. He just booked a ticket, packed a bag, and left. No warning, no discussion. Our two kids—just four and six—stayed with me. I handled school

My husband Kurt and I flew across the country to visit my sister, Sasha. She had been so excited when I told her we were finally coming to see her. Over the phone, she practically squealed. “Tina, I can’t believe you’re actually coming! I’ve been cleaning for days. I even turned my office into a real guest room!” Sasha lived alone in a cozy apartment two states away. After her last terrible breakup, she’d sworn off dating and rarely had people stay over. So when we finally arrived in Asheville,

We had been renting that small apartment for three years. It wasn’t fancy—just two bedrooms, plain beige walls, those bumpy popcorn ceilings, and that weird smell of old paint that never really went away. But still, it was ours. We filled it slowly over time, with all kinds of mismatched furniture, books stacked sideways on the floating shelves, and those silly little magnets we collected from weekend road trips. It was a simple life, built little by little. I still remember that quiet Saturday morning so clearly. It was just