“I thought if I stayed alone in that stone house, I was keeping her memory safe,” Nathaniel said, looking at the letters carved in the rock.

“I thought taking on more job sites was the only way to make up for the time I lost with her.”

Brenda laid her hand lightly on Nathaniel’s shoulder but didn’t speak.

“I was wrong about the silence, Brenda,” Nathaniel said.

He leaned forward and laid his bare right hand flat against the cold marble, holding it there until the chill in the stone seemed to give way, turning soft and warm under his palm in the quiet evening.

He let his fingers linger until the chill of the stone came back, then walked back to his truck without turning around.