our family for nine years? Why steal every piece of fruit from his garden twelve days after he died?”
For once, Monica had no immediate answer.
Her eyes shifted toward her front door.
It was only a tiny movement.
But I noticed it.
Then the screen door opened.
The young man I’d seen carrying tools into Monica’s house all summer stepped onto the porch.
He wasn’t holding a toolbox now.
“Luke,” Monica said sharply. “Go back inside.”
He ignored her.
I’d seen him several times over the previous few months, but I’d never truly looked at him.
As he walked closer, something about his face bothered me.
Not enough to recognize him.
Just enough to feel strangely familiar.
“She didn’t move back here because she wanted Daniel,” he said.
Monica turned toward him.
“Luke, don’t.”
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“He’s gone, Mom. What exactly are we protecting now?”
Mom.
I looked from
