Daniel stared at him, barely registering the group chorus of Welcome, Anil. We are sorry for your loss. Annika had never mentioned—wait. Annika would have been a baby when—maybe she didn’t know.

Mr. Mehta raised an eyebrow, as if to say, We have more in common than either of us thought.

Daniel nodded back and cleared his throat. “My name is Daniel Bliant.” He paused and looked around the room at all these complete strangers. Black, Hispanic, white, wealthy, middle-class, well dressed, poorly dressed, fit, out of shape. All these men were grieving, had lost a child, just like him.

Mr. Mehta spoke. “It’s okay, Daniel. We’re all friends here. And we’ve all been where you are now.”

Daniel was struck in that moment how similar Mr. Mehta’s eyes were to Annika’s. Comforting and strong. He nodded. “I’m Daniel, and I lost my daughter, Sara, close to five years ago. She was five.” Tears sprang to his eyes, unannounced. He tried to blink them back, but one escaped. He hastily wiped it away as he glanced around the room, but not one man flinched or seemed surprised. His father would have been appalled.

“Welcome, Daniel. We are sorry for your loss,” the group chorused.

Anil smiled and looked to Ron, who cleared his throat. “I’m Ron, and I lost my son, George, seven years ago. He was eight.” He glanced at Daniel. “It was like the world stopped for me, but not for anyone else. I couldn’t understand how life continued when my little boy was gone.”

Daniel couldn’t believe it. That was exactly how he’d felt in the aftermath of Sara’s funeral. He had been so lost, his world had ended, but for some reason they still needed to eat and pay bills. While Daniel took care of all that, he’d had the sense that it was ridiculous. How was it possible to continue when there was now a gaping hole where there had once been a beautiful little girl? How was it possible that the earth even continued to spin? Daniel relaxed into his surroundings as the meeting progressed and fathers shared their latest setbacks and accomplishments. Then came Daniel’s turn again.

“Anything you’d care to share today?” A kindness that Daniel had never heard from Mr. Mehta coated his words. “No pressure. But you could tell us what brought you here.”