Chapter 3

"We need to go see Ethan," I said the next morning, my voice flat.

Kate was dabbing at her eyes, a tissue in hand. "Of course, darling. Whatever you need."

She probably thought I meant the funeral home, to make arrangements. She didn't know I'd already done the basics, arranged for his burial at Forest Lawn. I couldn't wait for her.

She put on a show of being the grieving mother, fussing, asking if I'd eaten.

I just nodded, wanting to get it over with.

She tried to take my hand as we walked to the car. I pulled away.

"Mike? Are you okay?" she asked, her brow furrowed with that fake concern.

"Just tired," I said.

She started talking about Ethan then, little memories, her voice thick with emotion that sounded rehearsed. I didn't say anything.

I'd placed a small, modest flower arrangement on the dashboard. Something simple Ethan would have liked.

As we drove, Kate kept glancing at her phone. "Just work, honey. They're being very understanding, but there are a few loose ends."

We were heading towards Forest Lawn. I hadn't told her the exact plan.

Her phone rang. She answered it, her voice instantly changing, becoming sharper, more alert.

"Liam? What's wrong?"

A pause. Her face tightened.

"A migraine? A terrible migraine? Oh, poor Josh! Of course, I'll be right there."

Without a word to me, without a moment's hesitation, she made a sharp U-turn.

The car lurched. The little flower arrangement on the dashboard slid, then tumbled to the floor.

She drove right over it, the plastic container crunching under the tires as she maneuvered the car.

"Sorry, Mike," she muttered, not looking at me. "Sudden work crisis I forgot about. Urgent. We can... we can see Ethan later."

She didn't even notice the flowers. Or if she did, she didn't care.

The crunch of those flowers was the loudest sound I'd ever heard.