Months later, standing at the shore where they had scattered Aaron’s ashes, Janet spoke aloud into wind and water. Her voice trembled but did not break.
The realization hit Janet like a physical blow. The "loss" wasn't just about her son’s physical presence; it was the loss of the lie she had lived. Her ex-husband’s "business" was far darker than a simple mid-life crisis, and Leo had become the collateral damage.
At home, the house was quieter than she remembered. Silence had weight; it pressed into the corners. Sometimes she caught herself talking to him, narrating the ordinary. “I put the kettle on,” she would tell the empty kitchen. A habit more than a prayer, and yet a way to keep him present.