I know that stare. I had it often enough after Grandma. Can he smell his memories like I can? He whispers, “I couldn’t let Dad and Sara see those drugs. So I picked them up and shoved them into my jeans. That’s when I screamed for Dad down in the family room.” Flashes of Grandma in her bed overlap with reality, remembering my own call to Mom afterward. I want to throw up, but keep pressing. “And then what?” Daniel leans back, rubbing his hands over his face. “Dad called the ambulance and the EMTs called the police, and soon cop cars were flashing lights all over the front yard. They didn’t take her body away until after midnight. That was tough—I mean it was like she wasn’t human anymore, just some...” He shakes his head. “Then, the next morning the toxicology report was delivered to the police and they came back with tons of questions. They wanted to know where Julia got the drugs. “Dad and Sara acted like PTSD victims.
