PART 3   I stared at the hospital bracelet in the lunchbox until the letters of my own name blurred.

later, Walter’s health began to fade.

He was older by then, and life outside had taken more from his body than any of us wanted to admit.

This time, there were no secrets.

No back door.

No silent plates.

He told me where his papers were.

He told me which tools should go to the program.

He told me he wanted his wooden toolbox donated to a young person learning continue reading …