“No, listen to me right now,” she insisted, wrapping her frail fingers tight around my wrist.

“This is about Lucas.”

My stomach instantly knotted up hard, dragging all the old bitterness back up to the surface.

“Please don’t bring up the backyard man right now, Mom,” I groaned quietly.

“You have to promise me you’ll keep taking him food every day,” she pleaded, tears running onto her pillow.

“Why should I?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“Why was he always more important to you than me?”