A month ago, I became a widow. When Tom died, it felt like I died with him. We'd had no one but each other. Thirty years together—happiness, love—he took my whole life with him. I was sorting through his things in the garage. Old engines, tools—nothing unusual. And then I stumbled upon a box. I had never seen it before—just an ordinary cardboard box at first glance. I opened it and… froze. The box was filled with keys, and almost everyone had a tag with a name on it. Women's names. "Emmy," "Alic