He was Tom’s nephew, the son of Tom’s younger sister, Melissa. His mother had moved across the country several years earlier, and Tom had remained closely involved in his upbringing.
Jake had just graduated from high school and was preparing to begin his freshman year at a nearby university, where he planned to study medicine.
His mother was struggling financially, and Tom had offered to help him settle in before classes began.
When Tom first suggested that Jake stay with us for the summer, I didn’t hesitate.
“Of course,” I told him. “We have plenty of room.”
Tom kissed my forehead.
“That’s why I love you, Sarah. You always make people feel welcome.”
At the time, I thought it was a simple compliment.
I didn’t realize how much those words would haunt me later.
Jake arrived with three suitcases, a backpack, and the restless energy of someone standing at the beginning of his adult life.
