Chapter 12
Jason sat in the crowded Los Angeles airport terminal. Though people milled all around him waiting to board their flights, the seats immediately beside him were empty except for his carry-on backpack, which occupied one of the chairs. Jason turned the paper bearing Bethany’s favorite poem over and over in his hands as he stared at it. He read the lines again, not that he needed to. He’d read the poem at least a half dozen times every day since he started his journey across America and now the words were seared in his brain. He could still hear Bethany’s voice when she would recite the poem to herself, so soft and tender. But to his dismay, the memory was beginning to fade. She would say the words absentmindedly, like some people would vacantly hum a catchy tune to themselves. ‘
