Small things at first.
Drawers seemed slightly different after Tommy and Sandra visited. Objects vanished from places where I was certain I had left them.
Each time, I blamed myself.
Maybe grief was affecting my concentration.
Maybe age was affecting my memory.
Maybe I simply forgot where I had put things.
I looked at Tommy.
His eyes shifted toward Sandra.
She immediately stared at the pavement.
That tiny exchange told me everything.
I wiped a tear from my cheek.
“I want the truth, Tommy.”
He said nothing.
So I asked the question that changed everything.
“Is this the first time?”
His face changed immediately.
Not confusion.
Not anger.
Fear.
And in that second, I knew.
Tommy lowered himself onto the edge of the truck as though his knees could no longer hold him.
Sandra stayed standing.
The screwdriver remained in her hand until she noticed me staring at it. Then she slowly placed it on the driveway.
