my throat tighten.
Anthony called me his neighbor today. That is accurate, but incomplete. Somewhere along the way, he became the son life did not allow me to keep.
Ezra and Helen had once had a son named Daniel.
He had died as a young adult after a sudden illness.
Ezra rarely spoke about him. When he did, the grief in his voice remained quiet but unmistakable.
I closed the notebook.
For years, I had believed I was helping an elderly neighbor.
I had never understood the place he had