His thumb hovered over the remote. He hadn’t thought about that bike in thirty years. It was a red Huffy he’d left at the town pool. He remembered the panic, the tears, his mother’s sigh. It was a memory he had buried under decades of adult clutter.
He pressed play.
He watched from a god’s-eye view as he and Sam circled their kitchen island, voices rising over a piece of ruined pottery. He saw the exact micro-expression on his own face—the petty cruelty he had sworn he hadn't intended. He saw the moment her love for him cracked, a hairline fracture in her posture, weeks before she finally left. surflix.com web