He seemed to be rearranging the shape of his world one fact at a time.
“Has Mom been here?” he asked.
Evelyn looked at Daniel.
“Don’t look at him,” Silas said. “I asked you.”
His grandmother’s eyes filled with tears.
“Twice.”
Daniel stepped back as though she had pushed him.
“You let her into this house?”
“She came when Silas was at school.”
“You had no right.”
“She wanted to see where he lived. She wanted to know what books he liked and whether he still hated peas.”
“Did she see him?”
“No.”
“Are you certain?”
Evelyn hesitated.
That hesitation changed the room.
Daniel saw it.
So did I.
“Mom.”
“She saw him from the window once.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
Silas looked toward the window overlooking the backyard.
“Was she the lady talking to you?”
Evelyn nodded.
“Three nights ago?”
“Yes.”
“You told me it was the radio.”
