Four years after my husband Jason vanished during a solo hike, I thought I had accepted the loss. The search teams had given up, the courts declared him dead, and I had learned to raise our children alone. Still, little reminders of him lingered—his old mug, his scarf, his boots by the door. Then one quiet Saturday, everything changed. Out of the bushes came our old dog, Scout, older and thinner but unmistakable.
