I thought of the heavy brass trophy Cody had won at the regional summer tournament the year before.

I’d spent three weeks in the backyard teaching him to field grounders before that tournament.

We stayed out every night until the streetlights came on.

He slept with that trophy on his nightstand for a whole month.

Now he was boxing it up because he thought his father had failed to take care of him.

Go to his room right now, I typed.

Tell him the house is totally safe.