I sat there a long time before I could move.
Ethan came back in and told me, in a voice barely above a whisper, about that last night, a storm just like the day of the divorce, Daniel drifting in and out of lucidity, waking once to look toward my darkened window and say, Ethan, I’m so cold. I want to go home, but my home isn’t mine anymore. He grew continue reading …
