“Mom, tell me this is a joke,” Gavin said, his voice low and shaking. I could hear Diane’s calm reply through the speaker. “Honey, you needed a push. Read the second page.” Gavin turned the note over, and his face drained of color. He handed it to me. The first line read: “I have told Marcus you will be there.” Marcus was Gavin’s older brother, who had not spoken to him in six years.

Before I could ask a single question, headlights swept across the kitchen window. A car door shut outside, and heavy footsteps climbed the deck stairs. Lily peeked out from the living room, wide-eyed. Gavin held the phone against his chest, frozen. Then a firm knock sounded at the front door, three times, and a man’s voice said quietly, “Gavin? It’s me.”