“We’ll tell him when he’s older,” I said.

Maya, in the chair by the radiator with Liam asleep against her, said he should be told before he was ten.

Nobody wrote it down.

Nobody set a date.

Julian moved on to the deposition schedule, and it was February, and there was a great deal to get through.

I have thought about that meeting more in the last year than about anything else in this account.