YOUR SISTER TOLD YOU TO HIDE IN THE ATTIC AND NOT TELL YOUR HUSBAND—THEN YOU FOUND THE PASSPORTS UNDER THE FLOORBOARDS

do I have to do?”

You set the knife down and look at your son.

“Tell the truth about how you feel. Even when it changes.”

He nods.

“Today I’m mad.”

You pull him into your arms.

“Mad is allowed.”

At fifteen, Noah asks to read Caleb’s letters.

You knew this day would come.

It still takes the air from your lungs.

You give him the box.

You sit outside his bedroom continue reading …