Laura
The flight to Kentucky was uneventful, though the business class seats David had arranged were far more comfortable than I expected. He hadn’t said much since we boarded, aside from a quiet comment asking if I needed anything.
I couldn’t decide if his silence was thoughtful or detached, and I didn’t have the energy to analyze it. My thoughts were consumed by my father.
He had always been the quieter of my two parents, the one I used to turn to for a hug or a reassuring word. But over the years, he had grown more distant, weighed down by life, by Alex’s illness, and later, by his death.
When the plane landed, David took my bag without a word and led the way through the terminal. It was late, the lights in the airport muted and the air heavy with exhaustion. We picked up a rental
