“What am I carrying, Mom?
What do you mean?”
His parents exchanged a glance — quick, frightened, the glance of people who’ve been keeping a painful secret out of love.
His father lowered himself into a chair and set both hands on the taped cane.
“Gideon’s been bringing us your letters for years, son,” Wendell said, and his voice had a frailty in it Ezra had never heard before.
“We know the company’s been drowning in debt.