“As long as I knew him.”

“He checked ours.

Then he said he was making sure it hadn’t changed its mind.”

I put my hand flat on the table.

For weeks, I had wanted someone to tell me what Patrick did in Nashville.

The answer had arrived through a boy describing pancakes and locks.

It was not the whole answer to the hidden years.

It was a part of the final six days I could receive without an explanation being managed around it.