I knew what I was about to do wasn’t right. I knew it in my gut. You don’t open other people’s lockers. You don’t rifle through a stranger’s things because your kid pointed at something.
But my wife’s body was never found.
I knew it in my gut.
Some of Claire’s co-workers came to the memorial with red eyes and no answers. And now my son, my careful, quiet son who never made things up, had just told me he saw her.
“Stay right here,” I said to Ben. “Sit on the bench. Don’t move.”
“Daddy, are you mad?”
“I’m not mad, buddy. I just need to check something.”
My hands started shaking.
“Stay right here.”
My son sat hugging his knees. I watched the shower area until I heard water start running, then I turned back to the row of lockers.
I glanced back at Ben. He was watching me.
