Part 1: The Morning My Son Begged Me Not to Go

anymore?”

He didn’t answer right away. He stared at the floor, his fingers twisting the hem of his shirt.

Then he whispered something so soft I almost missed it.

“No lunch.”

I froze.

“No lunch?” I repeated, my voice barely steady.

He nodded and buried his face in my chest, as if he’d said something shameful.

My mind raced. Johnny wasn’t a picky eater. He continue reading …