had said it once in a kitchen, thinking almost nobody would ever hear it.
Now people were repeating it in book clubs across the country.
I never raised my voice at her.
I never sent an angry text.
I wrote down what was true.
And a few hundred thousand strangers became witnesses.
The family group thread had been silent for more than a year.
The Youngs with its little blue heart had gone quiet after Kora’s funeral.
I had moved it to the bottom of my messages and stopped looking.
