My Brother Locked Us In The Cellar To Force A Signature But Grandma Knew The Secret Hidden In The Wall

what parts of me are theirs. Whether my father also clenched his jaw when angry. Whether Claire liked numbers or hated them. Whether they would recognize me now. It hurts, not knowing. But it hurts differently from the old pain. The old pain was confusion without edges. This is grief with names, and names, unlike roles, can be honored.

So I keep going.continue reading …