One of My Triplet Sons Died Shortly After Birth — Then, on Their 18th Birthday, I Found a Gift Box on My Doorstep Labeled “Happy Birthday, Brothers.”

We parked behind Eleanor’s sedan.

The plate was the same one that had followed me to the cemetery for eighteen Aprils.

I turned off the engine and sat for one breath.

“If you want to wait in the car—”

“I didn’t come this far to wait in a car,” he said.

Bistro lights.