Suddenly, something opened inside my memory.
A woman crying at a doorway.
My mother’s hand gripping mine.
A man’s voice following us down these same steps.
“Don’t come back.”
Then another image.
A little boy running barefoot behind us.
Mismatched eyes.
Caleb.
He was crying, too.
And then I remembered his hand holding the back of my red bicycle while I screamed at him not to let go.
“I won’t. Keep going.”
I reached the middle of the driveway before stopping.
Nora shifted against my chest.
William wanted me to believe that little boy had grown into a man capable of abandoning his daughter without looking back.
Maybe he had.
