His father’s jackets still hung in the entrance closet.
Liam touched the beige rain coat and briefly closed his eyes.
Patrick’s favorite slippers had yet to be put away and as Liam walked to the kitchen, he picked them up. All the guests had gone home, but his parents’ house was still full of the lingering energy of grieving friends and family who’d spent the afternoon inside its walls. He was glad that everyone had left the Stokes house with food and comforting words. All through the day, his frail mother had been gracious, collected, and welcoming, as though she’d been practicing to be a widow in the last years. Liam understood his mother’s performance, because he knew all too well what it was like to hold your emotions down and to play a part for everyone else.
But he also suspected
