He stopped texting.
He stopped smiling.
He stopped sounding like my son. I told myself it was just distance, just adjustment, just divorce fallout. But when the school called and said his grades were slipping and he seemed “elsewhere,” I felt a cold, rising dread.
I drove through the rain to see him, not knowing that every step he took toward my car was carrying months.
He slid into the passenger seat and, for a moment, said nothing.
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