Seeing the home where he’d grown up helped to give insight into the man he’d once been, but for the moment her attention was drawn to the woman standing across from her. And the all-too-familiar look of loss in the older woman’s eyes. “Garrett was number twenty-four.” Mrs. Peterson stood in front of one of her son’s team photos hanging on the wall. “He was so tall and skinny back then, despite always eating like there was no tomorrow.” Danielle studied the team photo. Putting a name and history behind the body she’d pulled out of the ocean also made the situation all the more real. “When he was in school, sports were his passion. Long-distance running and basketball in particular.” Mrs. Peterson sat down on the blue-striped bedspread and ran her finger across his name engraved at the bottom of one of the trophies sitting on the nightstand. “He played basketball on the high school varsity team, then went on to play in college until he busted his knee.
