“I watched him take every job he could find. I watched him come home exhausted. I watched him sit at that kitchen table with bills he couldn’t pay. And when he died, I was left trying to put our lives back together.”
I swallowed hard.
“I was there, Mom.”
“I know.”
“I lost that house too. I lost Dad too. You weren’t the only person who suffered.”
Silence.
Then she whispered, “I know that now.”
I wasn’t sure I believed her.
Not yet.
Ethan stood and walked toward the bedroom door.
“There’s something else,” he said.
I looked up.
“What?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver key attached to a faded blue ribbon.
I recognized the ribbon before I recognized the key.
Dad had used the same kind of ribbon to label the spare keys in our old house.
My breath caught.
“Ethan, what is that?”
