He had no idea what he was actually carrying with him. Her grandmother didn’t ask questions when Alexis arrived. She took one look at the trash bags, at Tyler’s clenched jaw, at Alexis’s face—and pulled her inside. Alexis didn’t make it past the kitchen table.
She broke down there, hands over her face, sobbing in a way that surprised even her. Loud. Shaking. The kind of crying that came from holding everything together too long. Her grandmother let it happen. She didn’t rush her. She didn’t interrupt.