Just as a sob threatened to break free, a flicker of movement down the highway caught my eye. A patrol car, a mirage of hope. I raised a trembling hand, waving frantically. The car slowed, its window rolling down to reveal a uniformed officer. His name tag read Ramirez. He looked weary, as if he’d seen every kind of human failure the desert had to offer.

“Everything all right, ma’am?” he asked, his voice calm, professional.

The words tumbled out, a messy confession of betrayal. “My daughter-in-law and her mother… they just left me. They just drove off.”

He listened patiently, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t surprised, which somehow made it worse. After relaying my name, Eleanor Vance, over his radio, he turned back to me.