My son didn’t show up at my wife’s funeral. Hours …

I’m sorry, Dad, for all of it.

I didn’t respond. Sorry wasn’t enough anymore. After they drove away, I sat in Margaret’s garden and called Patricia Williams.

It’s done, I told her. The confession is signed. They’re gone.

Good, she said. Margaret would be proud. You gave them more mercy than they deserved.

That night, I opened a bottle of wine Margaret continue reading …