Nobody Has to Bleed to Be Heard
Mark came in thinner and grayer and forty pounds down from the man who told my wife not to call me.
He is fifty-one now.
He said what men say at these things: remorse, programs completed, a job lined up with a cousin, a desire to make amends to the families.
He did not look at Noah.
Not once in two hours.
I watched for it the entire time, and I want to be honest that some part of me was hoping he would, because I wanted to see what Noah’s face would do, and that is a thing about myself I have not enjoyed learning.