The Tuxedo Goodbye: A Father’s Last Dance Before the Monitor Went Silent

I’m not going to tell you the number, because the number isn’t the point.

The point is what it feels like.

It feels like someone reached into Chloe’s grave and tried to pick my pocket.

My wife sees my face and goes pale. “What is it?”

I hold out the paper.

Her mouth opens, then closes.

Then she makes a sound I’ve never heard from her before—half laugh, half continue reading …