his son.”
“So is Luke!”
Monica covered her mouth with one hand.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered, “I know none of this was your fault. Maybe I’ve always known that. But when I saw you bring Daniel’s children home, I became angry.”
She swallowed hard.
“You got twenty-seven years with him. Your children got a father. Luke got nothing.”
I looked toward the garage.
“So you took everything from the trees.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Because for one moment, I wanted you to know what it felt like to lose something of Daniel’s too.”
What she’d done was cruel.
It was still wrong.
But finally, I understood why she’d done it.
The following week passed in a blur.
I spent most of it trying to understand the life Daniel had left behind—and the part of that life he had never even known
