Friday came the way important days always come. Quietly. Without ceremony. Like any other morning.
Noah had gone to Sophia’s the evening before. It had been his idea, or at least that was how Sophia had presented it to him, framing the sleepover as something he was choosing rather than something being arranged around him. He had packed his own bag with great seriousness, included three books he definitely would not finish and a toy he had recently decided needed to go everywhere with him, and kissed me on the cheek at the door with the brisk efficiency of someone with places to be.
“See you tomorrow,” he had said. Already halfway down the corridor.
“I love you,” I had said.
He had thrown a hand up without turning around. Which was his version of the same thing and I had learned to rece
