“Give me my son’s toy,” I said, “right now.”

Chapter 18 — You Boxed Up His Life

She handed it to me, her hands shaking, and I took it and pulled it against my chest, and it still smelled, very faintly, of Leo’s baby shampoo, and I had to close my eyes for a moment against the force of that.

Then I opened them and looked at the woman who had been my closest friend for half my life.

“You sat beside me,” I said, “in the intensive care unit, for three weeks, while my son’s heart failed.

You held me at his grave on Monday morning and told me I would never be alone.