“I know it’s hard. But I’ve told you, sweet cheeks, Alyx died in a boating accident. You almost died, too. And your mom left us when you were little.”
“Why doesn’t Mom ever call? Doesn’t she wonder about us?”
“If I had a number, I’d give it to you and you could ask.” He raised his hands in the air, his Jesus pose. I knew the gesture well.
“Did you see Alyx’s body?”
Dad looked at the floor. “What a question—”
“No. She was never recovered.”
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish