They did not have to prove we could manage without Daniel.

We were putting away groceries.

At dinner, there was an argument about who had taken the last roll.

Another boy volunteered a story so complicated that everyone understood he was responsible before he finished.

Ben laughed and pushed his truck along the grain of the table after his plate was cleared.

“Where’s it going?” I asked.

“To the lake.”

“That’s the wrong direction.”