“Curtis, look what I made!”
“Curtis, can you come see my bike?”
“Curtis, did you know I can almost do a cartwheel?”
She didn’t treat him like a guest.
She treated him like he had always been there.
And slowly, something inside him began to shift.
One evening, about two months after that birthday party, Curtis stayed a little later than usual.
Sarah had gone to tuck Lisa into bed. I was rinsing dishes when I noticed Curtis standing by the back door, staring out into the dark yard.
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