One wore a dark coat.

The other had an umbrella.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“Grandma,” he said.

“And Uncle Kyle.” The pencil hovered over the page.

“Uncle Kyle told me not to talk about hearing Mommy,” he added.

“He said people would think I was bad.” My stomach tightened.

“When did he tell you that?” “Before the prayer,” Lucas said.