My Grandson Called Me From the Police Station in Fear Until One Word Changed Everything

this was a wound.

I read the letter once, sat with it for a moment, and put it in the recycling.

She could have those five years. They were years of isolation in my own life, years of waiting for calls that did not come, years of an empty space at a table set for more people. They were also years of Ethan appearing at my door with drawings, years of continue reading …