I reached for his hand.
“So you took a class?”
He nodded.
“On Tuesday evenings.”
I stared at him.
“Those were the nights you said you were with Marcus.”
“Yeah.”
Suddenly, months of worry came rushing back.
All those evenings I’d imagined him getting into trouble.
All those nights I’d wondered whether he was keeping dangerous secrets.
He’d been learning how to respond to emergencies.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He gave a sad little smile.
“Because I knew you’d cry.”
I covered my mouth.
“And you already cry enough, Mom.”
I laughed through my tears.
Then I asked something else.
“What about those late-night walks?”
He looked surprised.
“You heard me leaving?”
“Logan, I’m your mother.”
He sighed.
“Sometimes I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about Dad, and everything feels too loud in my head.”
He looked toward the backyard.
“So I walk around the neighborhood until I feel calmer.”
