about yourself disappearing.”
He reached for my hand and squeezed it.
Twelve days later, Daniel died.
The afternoon we returned from his funeral, I carried our sleeping daughter Lily from the car while Ben walked beside me holding Daniel’s old cap tightly against his chest.
I barely looked toward the backyard.
All I could think about was getting the children inside and somehow making it through our first evening in a house without him.
Then I heard a branch snap.
I stopped.
Another rustling sound came from behind the fruit
