“Oh my God.”
I stared at her.
“You know him?”
She laughed softly.
“Your grandmother talked about him exactly twice in my entire life.”
Thomas closed his eyes.
“Twice is more than I deserved.”
When we pulled into the driveway, he remained frozen for several seconds.
The porch light glowed softly.
Inside, Grandma Mary was probably asleep.
Fragile.
Weak.
Running out of time.
Thomas opened the car door.
Then stopped.
“What if she doesn’t remember me?”
