It was about the people he could still help.

PART 25

When Theo was five, he began asking the questions I had known would come.

“Why doesn’t Daddy live with us?” he asked one evening while we were folding tiny socks that were no longer especially tiny.

I had prepared for this with my counselor and with professionals who understood how children process complicated family histories.

I didn’t tell him adult details he could not use.

I also didn’t invent a pretty story to protect myself from discomfort.