A day earlier my mother-in-law, Deirdre, had called me in tears, saying Denton was failing fast, that his one dying wish was to see his only grandson a last time.

That plea was the reason I’d packed a bag and put us on the first bus out to Millhaven, the misty coastal town where Porter’s family had always held court.

I read the note again, my pulse loud in my ears, and I thought about waking Cody and slipping off into the anonymity of the rest stop.

Then I noticed the man two rows up, cupping his phone, speaking low.

“Yes, sir.