My father had driven away without looking back.

I stayed at the railing until the light was gone.

That was the whole difference between us, made visible on a single porch in a single hour, and my grandmother felt it, I think, though neither of us said a word — the leaving and the staying, side by side, one vanishing down the driveway and one holding steady at the rail.

Chapter 15 — A Line Item on a Ledger