It was the first time I knew, all the way down, that we were going to be all right.

Chapter 12 — The Train That Broke

The turn came on a gray autumn evening, about six weeks in, over a wooden train set.

Mason was on the living room rug, trying to fit two pieces together that didn’t match, and he forced them, and a little connector snapped with a sharp crack.

And my nephew came apart.

He dropped the pieces and scrambled backward across the floor and folded himself into a tight ball against the sofa, arms over his head, and the words that came out of him broke my heart clean in two.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!