Adrian
Becky's mother called again in September, this time reaching Becky directly rather than going through any indirect channel, and I found her sitting alone on the back porch afterward, phone still in her hand, an expression on her face I hadn't seen in months.
"She wants to meet Micah," Becky said, when I sat down beside her. "Wants to be a grandmother, apparently. Says she's had time to think about everything, wants a chance to make things right."
"How do you feel about that?"
"Angry, mostly," Becky admitted. "And then guilty for being angry, because some old part of me still wants to believe people can genuinely change." She was quiet for a moment, turning her phone over in her hands. "I don't know what to do, Adrian. I don't want to be cruel. But I also don't want to hand her a
