The Morning After My Son’s Funeral An Airport Worker Called About The Bag He Left Behind

Not composed. Something real.

Brett’s voice was shorter. “I didn’t know.” Repeated twice in quick succession. Then silence.

They were both brought in for questioning.

I watched from the kitchen window as Tara walked to one of the vehicles. She did not look toward the garage.

That same night, Reed called nearly at 10 p.m. Brett had given a full statement.continue reading …