La vida

Happiness in the Palm of Her Hand Larissa studied herself in the mirror—her long face, sharp nose, thin

**Diary Entry – 16th May** Matthew pulled up to the cemetery gates and exhaled deeply. Bloody hell—how

“Are you serious?” Vlad’s voice wavered, not from surprise but from the effort of holding

“Just keep things running,” David’s voice was matter-of-fact. He didn’t even look up

“Just keep things running,” James muttered, his voice dull as he kept his eyes glued to his phone.

This might sound like a typical story, but there’s a lesson in it—a couple just past their fifties who’d

Matthew pulled the car to a stop by the cemetery gates and exhaled deeply. Christ, how many times had

Emily Whitaker sat at the kitchen table, scrolling through photos on her phone. Forty years—a milestone.

Emily Wilson sat at the kitchen table, scrolling through photos on her phone. Forty—a milestone birthday.

**Diary Entry** I lived in a lovely cottage with a well-tended garden. Hydrangeas and petunias bloomed