But for one evening, nobody had tried to control what I knew or how I felt.

PART 17

The anniversary of the supposed accident arrived in late October.

In previous years, I had taken flowers to a grave bearing my mother’s name.

This year, I couldn’t decide what to do.

“I could go with you,” Miriam offered when I told her.

“Wouldn’t that be strange?”

“Probably,” she said, with a small laugh.