My Parents Saw My Son And Knew

“No.”

I didn’t answer.

“No,” he said again, louder now. “That’s not funny.”

“I didn’t drive eight hours for a joke.”

Noah stood very still beside me. He was old enough to know when adults were lying, and old enough to know when they were scared. He slipped his hand into mine.

Mom’s voice came out thin. “Daniel Mercer is dead.”

“Yes,” I said. “He is.”

Dad continue reading …