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

woke up while I was sitting at the edge of his bed, my hand hovering over his forehead like I was afraid my touch might shatter him.

I’d been whispering that same confession I always whisper when the house goes still and the medication finally does what no prayer ever could.

I’m sorry.

I should have let you go.

The moonlight turned his face into a photograph—soft,continue reading …