He was thirteen and he sat on the floor of his grandmother’s spare room and opened a present meant for a seven-year-old and said, “This is a good one.

This one’s right.”

That was when Alma left the room.

She came back four minutes later, composed, and sat down in the chair, and said the thing I keep hearing.

“I want to say something and then we will have coffee.” She looked at Chloe.

“I am glad he is here.