The old stone still said:
CALEB BENNETT BELOVED SON 2004–2023
Caleb stared at it.
“That’s weird.”
I laughed.
“You think?”
“What happens to it?”
“We replace it.”
“With what?”
I smiled.
“I have an idea.”
Three weeks later, the old marker was removed.
Aaron Pike’s name was honored properly in his own family cemetery.
And where Caleb’s grave had been, we placed a simple stone bench.
No dates.
No epitaph.
Only one sentence:
SOMETIMES THE PERSON YOU ARE MOURNING IS STILL TRYING TO FIND THE ROAD HOME.
Caleb read it.
Then looked at me.
“That’s dramatic.”
“You’re my son. You know where you got it.”
He smiled.
Noah climbed onto the bench.
Scout jumped beside him.
Emma took a photograph.
And just when I thought every secret had finally been uncovered, Noah reached beneath the bench.
“Grandma?”
“What is it?”
He pulled out a small metal tag.
My heart jumped.
For one terrible second, everyone froze
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