It’s something he thinks I should know, so I won’t rush him. Trying to scan my memories in the long pause between us, but it’s such a jumble when it comes to his mother, of snippets and bits of conversations, so I don’t get a clear understanding of where she is. It’s something I noticed, but I assumed it held no real importance in the grand scheme of things.
“She’s not here.” He points out blankly as though reading my thoughts, after a moment of staring at his can. I don’t recognize his raw, raspy voice, and the strangled way the words come out, telling me this is more painful than he can bear. “I haven’t seen her for nine years.”
It’s not the answer I expected, and I gawp, heart skipping a beat, my eyes widening with surprise and I have no words at all. Head trying to pull that togeth
