I’ve wondered if she used to sit next to her husband on their sofa and knit him sweaters or scarves when he was alive. I bet she did. When she visits, she doesn’t cry or even seem like she is mourning. It’s like she just wants to be close to him. I think that’s nice, though I do wonder who she’s knitting for now.

I’ve even seen people talking to graves. I’ve never gotten close enough to hear what they are saying, not wanting to disturb them, but maybe they were telling stories about their lives now. Maybe they were praying.

As I snuck a glance at Oren, I thought that maybe some people even ask for forgiveness.

I cleared my throat. “Oren?”

He didn’t speak, but I knew he was listening. “Your uncle is at my house. He…” I took a deep breath and figured I’d just get it out there. “He says you didn’t kill your parents.”

Oren’s head snapped up, and he glared at me. He was clearly not happy with my sharing that with his uncle.

“He said it was an accident.”

Oren returned his eyes to the ground and yanked at a few blades of grass. I hoped Richard wasn’t watching—he took his grass very seriously.

“Are you saying it wasn’t an accident, Oren?”

He shook his head slowly.

What did that even mean?

“Can you please explain it to me?” I said, trying very hard to be patient. “Because it doesn’t make any sense.”

This time he didn’t even shake his head—he just ignored me.

“Were you driving?” I asked.

He snorted, but that was all the response I got.

“Oren, come on.” I leaned into his shoulder.

Nothing.

“Have you told anyone what happened?”

That got me a head shake. Not that I was surprised. I knew about keeping big secrets.

But this was something Oren needed to deal with. His uncle had no idea. And he’d said Oren wouldn’t go to therapy. He needed to talk to someone.

Putting the rocks I’d collected down on the grass, I reached for his hand. I slid my fingers in between his and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

“Can you tell me?”

He pulled his fingers away.

I tried not to take it personally, even though it was hard not to. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

He sighed and got out his phone. I wanted so badly for him to talk to me. It was tempting to make him mad again so he would, but then he’d just run away. And I didn’t really want to upset him again.

I looked out at the cemetery as he typed. Richard was raking the grass a few rows away. It was almost like he was raking a regular lawn, if you could look past the headstones and the fact that there were dead people in the ground under all that grass.

Finally Oren nudged my shoulder with his as he turned the phone toward me.

No.