When she answered the door, she studied me cautiously.
“Can I help you?”
I held out Jeremy’s note.
“My son spoke last night for the first time in eight years.”
Her expression changed immediately.
“Jeremy?” she whispered.
A chill moved through me.
“You know my son?”
Nora stepped away from the doorway.
“You should come inside.”
We sat across from each other at her kitchen table. I told her everything—the anniversary dinner, Jeremy’s accusation, the argument he remembered, and the note saying Janice had heard it too.
