“All of it.”
Frank smiled.
“Was it good?”
“It was really good.”
Frank closed his eyes.
“Good boy.”
At the funeral, Owen gave the eulogy.
He had never liked speaking in front of people.
But that day, his hands remained still.
He didn’t pretend Frank had been perfect.
He talked honestly about his father’s temper.
About the pain Frank carried from his own childhood.
About the damage that pain caused.
Then Owen told them about Ethan.
About the theater.
About saying,
“Hey. Stop.”
“My father didn’t know how to stop
