Twelve Months Later, Ethan Came Back With a Sleeping Newborn and a Broken Suitcase

My knees gave out before I told them to.

The rug met me hard.

I put one hand down and held the picture with the other.

Richard was kissing a bride in a white dress, and my son’s bag was sitting in the background of a room I had never seen.

“Mom.”

I didn’t look up.

“His car,” Ethan said.

“It’ll be in the drive by five forty.”