Part 3 — The Story Behind the Moon Shirt

I’d bought the navy shirt about four months before the court date. Toby had fallen hard for astronomy after a second-grade field trip to a planetarium.

He talked endlessly about planets and stars and how light could travel for millions of years before it reached us.

One rainy evening, after a long cleaning shift downtown, I passed a small clothing store clearing out old stock. The navy shirt hung on a bargain rack near the front window — soft, sturdy, with a tiny silver moon stitched beside the pocket.

I had eighteen dollars in my account to last until Friday. The shirt cost twelve. I knew I should spend that money on eggs and milk. But I kept picturing his face.

For once I wanted to give him something new, something that hadn’t belonged to another child first.

I bought it, and carried it home in a thin paper bag.