I looked up, Caleb was sitting at the top of the stairs.
I don’t know how long he’d been there. Long enough. He looked down at me, and I waited for him to say something. To ask why. To be angry.
He didn’t say anything at all. He just got up and went back to his room.
The next morning, the glove was gone from the porch step. I never asked what happened to it. I assumed Caleb threw it away.
That was almost three years ago. And slowly, everything
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