Jamie never complained. He understood that bills didn’t care if you were grieving. But that didn’t mean it was easy. One afternoon, Jamie’s dad came home early and tossed a baseball toward him. “Let’s play catch,” he said, a little breathless, as if saying the words out loud might shatter them. Jamie nodded and followed him outside.
For a few minutes, it was just the sound of the ball smacking into gloves, the crisp air, and the soft crunch of grass under their shoes. Jamie even smiled when he caught a tricky throw behind his back. It felt good. Normal. Then the phone rang.