Instead of driving directly to his condo, Patrick drove across town to the cemetery where Andrew’s family had buried him. He hadn’t been there in a long time, more than eighteen months, actually. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing there now.
Patrick parked in the lot, grabbed a blanket out of the trunk of his car, and made his way out to the graveside. It had one of those flat ground placards that read Andrew Jacob Lewis, b. Oct. 30, 1982, d. Sept. 7, 2007. The grave was barren of flowers. No one had visited for a while.
When Andrew first died, Patrick had come often. Eventually, he’d decided, after talking to the numerous counselors he’d gone to after the suicide, that it was no longer healthy to visit. Yet here he was.
He placed the blanket on the ground and sat next to Andrew’s f
