a quiet, flat way, staring at the asphalt between her feet.
One of the bikers saw me and stepped aside. “You family?”
“I’m her aunt.”
He nodded once. “Go slow. She’s been through it.”
I walked slow. I knelt down in front of her in my Sunday dress and I said her name, and she looked up at me with a face I have never seen on her before.
She looked fifty years continue reading …
