One last hug before she slung her backpack over her shoulder and set off for the day.

And then it was just me. Waiting. Nothing new to write. Just me and my thoughts. Waiting.

Nine a.m. turned to ten a.m., and my nerves increased. Waiting. Ten turned to eleven, and my nerves were growing more jagged. I found I was pacing between cigarettes, hope fading fast. Until I heard the tap of knuckles from outside.

I thought I’d prepared myself to answer the door, responses ready for whatever reaction awaited me, but they all faded to nothing when I came face to face with Beverly in the flesh, standing there...