My heart did something strange—a squeeze, then a release, like a fist unclenching after years.
But Liam didn’t catch up. He spun in circles in the living room, watching the dust motes dance in the afternoon light. He lined his toy cars in perfect, unbroken rows from the fireplace to the kitchen door. If I moved so much as one red sedan, he would scream—not a tantrum, but a sound of pure, undiluted agony, as if I’d broken a bone. Beautiful Boy
“Hey, Liam,” I said.
We sat in silence for a long time. A bee bumbled between the clover. Somewhere a dog barked twice and then gave up. I pulled blades of grass and let them fall, one by one. My heart did something strange—a squeeze, then a