“Yes, Mom,” Jack whispered. “I asked her to.” My stomach dropped. He lifted his eyes, and they were wet. “A boy at school saw a picture of the porch on Maya’s phone. He said my decorations looked like a baby made them. He said everyone would laugh when they drove by on Halloween.” He rubbed his sleeve across his nose. “I did not want you to see me cry, so I told Grandma while you were getting your keys.”

I sat down beside him and put my arm around his shoulders. He leaned into me, shaking. “She promised not to tell you why,” he said. “She said she would take the blame.” I looked toward the doorway, where Marjorie stood quietly with her hands folded, her eyes full of tears. Then Jack looked up again and said, “But Mom, I changed my mind, and I do not know how to tell you.”