He let me sign my name near the inside of his wrist, small enough not to crowd the signatures of his brothers.

I waited until he held out the pen.

The drive back was quiet.

Lauren sat beside me while the boys dozed in the rear seats.

At a traffic light she rubbed her forehead and said, “I used to do days like this alone.” I nodded.

There was no version of the sentence I could answer without acknowledging everything we’d lost.

“I know,” I said.