Chapter 19: Uncle Frank
I stared at the photo until my eyes burned.
Uncle Frank. My father's younger brother. The one who taught me to ride a bike. Who showed up every Christmas with presents and bad jokes. Who cried at my wedding and told me Marcus was a lucky man.
He was standing outside our bunker. Smiling like we were about to have Thanksgiving dinner.
"This can't be right," David whispered. "That's not him. It can't be."
"It's him." My voice was hollow. "Look at the shirt. That's the one Mom gave him last year. With the fishing boats."
Mom made a sound behind us. Small and broken.
I turned. She was sitting on the bunk, her face the color of ash.
"You knew."
It wasn't a question. The look on her face told me everything.
"Clara." Her voice shook. "Let me explain."
"You knew h
