He was grieving.

He also didn’t trust what he would see if he quit walking the floors.”

—

The gray cloth in the shoebox was wrapped around six black notebooks, each one held with the same thick rubber band, each one labeled by year in careful block letters.

Liam laid them out in a row like a hand of playing cards.

“Two thousand twelve through twenty-two,” he said.

“He saved them for you, Miss Reyes.