When the service ended, everyone stood.
Both of them cried through most of the service.
Noah insisted on sitting in the last row.
“This is family stuff,” he whispered.
“You mattered to him too.”
“Not like they did.”
When the service ended, everyone stood.
The man held out a thick envelope.
Aaron was hugging someone near the front when a man in a gray suit walked down the aisle toward us.
He stopped directly in front of Noah.
“Are you Noah?”
Noah glanced at me.
“Yeah.”
