“Most of you know I’ve had a hard few years.

I lost my granddaughter nine years ago.” A pause, precisely calibrated.

“And I never thought I’d get to say the word grandson.”

Something happened to the room.

“This is Liam. He’s ten. He’s Logan’s son.”

I have been told since — by Paige, by two other people who were in that room — that the noise that followed was not the noise you get at a happy announcement.

It was thirty-two people making a sound at once, and about six of them saying “what,” and one older cousin saying, out loud, “Logan’s what?”