distance just as she had loved it.
He stood beside the stone for a long time.
Then he said, “She would have hated all of this.”
I almost laughed.
“She would have hated the investor’s shoes.”
My son laughed then, suddenly and painfully, and for a moment he sounded like the boy who used to run through the lobby carrying too many towels at once.
We stayed until the light began to disappear.
The lodges were still there.
So were we.
Not unchanged.
But intact.
