“You’re grieving, Jenny,” Jonathan said quietly.
“Grieving?” Jenny asked.
“Yes,” Jonathan answered. “Grieving shows up in a lot of different ways—physically, emotionally, even spiritually. But it’s good. You need to go through it.”
I’m grieving! Of course I am.
She picked up the journal her mother had kept. She had put it aside while Bobby and Jonathan had been at the police station, not able to read more, fearing she might read something she really didn’t want to know. Now she turned to the second entry and began to read it.
“Would it be too hard for you to read it out loud?” Jonathan asked gently.
“Of course not,” Jenny said. “I’m sorry, I know you all want to hear it.”
She began to read out loud.
April 24, 1950. This morning I took the streetcar from the hotel to Fifth Avenue to
