Emma Signed Over Her Kitchen Island to Keep Toby Safe in Massachusetts

where the afternoon light was already beginning to fade into a dull violet.

Toby was sitting on the bottom step of the wooden deck, his knees pulled up to his chest.

He had his yellow pencil in his hand, tapping the eraser against the side of his sneaker in a steady, slow rhythm.

“Your father took the black car, Toby,” I said, sitting continue reading …