Neither of us spoke.
We had learned that certain moments broke if we named them.
***
Eight months earlier, Mike had been playing soccer in our backyard when he stopped chasing the ball.
He stood near the fence with one hand pressed against his side.
We had learned that certain moments broke if we named them.
« Cramp? » I called.
He shook his head.
That night, he developed a fever.
Three days later, a doctor pulled two chairs close to his desk and explained that our eight-year-old had cancer.
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