Sometimes in Winter

She pinned photographs, birth certificates, tax bills, and scribbled notes to the dining room walls. Like some police procedural, she thought. She walked around the room, staring at the exhibits. There has to be an answer. In Santa Barbara? At that farm in Wisconsin? With a Silicon Valley firm? Or someplace or with someone I've yet to find? I think you wanted me to look, she thought; I'm almost sure. I'll need to follow where you went to discover what happened. I have to know who you were then to understand who I am now. And who he was.