My Son Brought

locked.

I hated them for that.

I hated that the sight of his grandfather’s car could steal the peace from his face.

“I can keep driving,” I said.

He stared at the car.

“No.”

“Caleb—”

“I don’t want to run.”

“You don’t have to talk to him.”

“I know.”

We pulled into the driveway.

My father got out of his car before I had even turned off the engine.

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