He lay on a blanket beneath a maple tree, captivated by shifting patches of light.

I watched other parents walking strollers, arguing affectionately about snacks, and laughing at babies who had mastered the art of dropping toys.

I had spent months imagining that truth would arrive with sirens and confessions.

Instead it arrived as properly obtained records, careful statements, and the ability to sit in a park without waiting for someone to take it all away.

PART 10