his garden twelve days after he died?”
For once, Monica had no immediate answer.
Her eyes shifted toward her front door.
It was only a tiny movement.
But I noticed it.
Then the screen door opened.
The young man I’d seen carrying tools into Monica’s house all summer stepped onto the porch.
He wasn’t holding a toolbox now.
“Luke,” Monica said sharply. “Go back inside.”
He ignored her.
I’d seen him several times over the previous few months, but I’d never truly looked at him.
As he walked closer, something
