about his face bothered me.
Not enough to recognize him.
Just enough to feel strangely familiar.
“She didn’t move back here because she wanted Daniel,” he said.
Monica turned toward him.
“Luke, don’t.”
“He’s gone, Mom. What exactly are we protecting now?”
Mom.
I looked from Monica to the young man.
He appeared to be in his mid-twenties.
My stomach dropped.
Twenty-seven years.
“No,” I whispered.
Luke stopped beside his mother.
“I found out about Daniel three months ago. Mom finally told me his name.”
Monica looked away.
Luke continued.
