The Barren Wasteland
“Deep denial. He’s aggressively posting photos on the HOA Facebook page, basically forcing people to congratulate him. But he looks manic. The cracks are showing.”
No sooner had I hung up than a text chimed from an unknown number — but the arrogance of it was a fingerprint.
Look at my son. If you weren’t so bitter and barren, you could’ve been holding him. You threw away a family, Sarah. Attached was a photo of a swaddled, red-faced newborn.
I zoomed in. Pam was right. The resemblance was undeniable.
I typed my reply slowly, every word a precision strike.
Are you absolutely certain he’s your son, Michael?