could cut through anyone’s soul. For a second, I was eighteen again, scared and shaking as he told me to pack my things and never come back.
“Dad,” I said softly.
His mouth opened, but no words came. My son turned between us, like a bridge between two worlds that had been broken for too long.
“Grandpa,” my son said, his voice steady, “this is Mom.”
I don’t continue reading …
