The Guard Asked Who They Were Here to See

“Harper?”

I nodded once.

“Yes, sir.”

I hadn’t called him Dad in twenty years. I wasn’t going to start in front of a coat rack and a bowl of polished brass keys.

My mother’s mouth moved before any sound came out.

“You look…” She stopped there.

Healthy, maybe. Important. Untouchable. Older. Like someone she didn’t know what to do with.

The guard’s question continue reading …