investment account we had built together were protected.
Austin knew nothing about it.
Whenever Ernest tried discussing the future, our son changed the subject.
Austin wanted to know what he would inherit.
He rarely wanted to know how his father was feeling.
That was the difference.
My phone rang again.
I answered.
“Mom.”
Austin sounded defeated.
“Where are you?”
Through the taxi window, I watched Miami’s lights beginning to glow against the dark morning.
“I’m going on vacation.”
“Mom, this isn’t funny.”
“I know.”
“You can’t just leave us like
