On Christmas

I laughed once.

A dry, ugly sound.

“They were home,” Lily whispered from the bed.

I turned.

Her eyes were open.

“You heard the phone?”

She nodded.

“Grandma is lying.”

“I know, baby.”

“She was wearing her red Christmas sweater.”

The officer looked up sharply.

“What did you say, Lily?”

Lily pulled the blanket closer.

“Grandma opened the door a little. She had the continue reading …