I Got Home From the Oil Rig Two Weeks Early and Found My Eight-Year-Old Son Cooking Dinner for Strangers—The Messages He Never Sent Explained Everything.
The night before the visit, he packed a little canvas bag with his lizard book, three crayons, and a picture of Rig.
He changed his mind twice about taking the phone.
In the end he left it on the table beside his bed.
“I don’t want to have to write anything afterward,” he said.
“You won’t have to.”
At the family visitation center, the caseworker described what the room would be like.
Finn could ask for a break, and the visit could be stopped if he got upset.
He listened carefully, then asked if there would be a window.