The river looked slower than Peggy remembered, the streetlights brighter somehow.
Cody grabbed for her hand, missed, awkwardly held her wrist.
Peggy didn’t adjust, just walked with Cody holding her left wrist, Mike Cowlo’s prayer card in her right hand.
“Mike was always proud of the fact that your dad loved him.”
Cody exhaled, tilted his head back, and blew…
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