I Prayed for a Miracle—Now I Lock My Door at Night

him out, I creep into his room. It is the only time he looks like my Tyler again. His face is soft in the moonlight. The rage is gone.

I sit by his bed, careful not to wake him, and I weep. I lean in close, brush the hair off his forehead, and I whisper the only truth I have left.

“I’m sorry, Tyler. I’m so sorry. I should have let you go to heaven when continue reading …