She did not burn them, which would have been an act with a shape to it.

She put my son’s sonogram in the box where she kept my baby teeth, and then she kept the box, and dusted around it, for eight years.

I did not open it in front of her.

I want to record that, because it was the only thing I did right on the ninth of November: I put the lid back on and I picked it up and I said, “I’m going to take this.”

And she said, “Wesley, let me explain.”

And I said, “Not tonight.

I’m not going to be able to hear it tonight and I’d rather hear it properly than badly.”

Then I drove to my house and sat in the truck in the garage until about four in the morning with a shoebox on the passenger seat that I could not make myself open.

Part Seven: The Box

I opened it at about four in the morning at my own kitchen table.