Toby & Gavin — The Missing Weekends
I shook my head.
Sometimes I still woke before dawn and checked whether Toby was in his room.
Sometimes Brenda called twice instead of once if Gavin didn’t answer immediately.
We were not magically cured of fear.
But neither were we prisoners of it.
The boys had kept their promises, and we had kept ours.
When the last visitors left, Walter brought out a wooden plaque made from a piece of salvaged oak.
He had carved four names into it: TOBY, GAVIN, ELENA, BRENDA.
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