The Morning After My Son’s Funeral, an Airport Worker Called and Said, “Your Son Checked In”

came up into her eyes on cue. “I don’t know everything. Just that he needed a way out. Something he couldn’t do on his own.”

I looked back down at the bag on my passenger seat. The money. The passport.

It seemed like David had been preparing for an escape.

But standing there in that garage with the engine ticking as it cooled, one very small thing snagged continue reading …