When my ex-husband’s name flashed across my phone, I answered before the second ring. Our son was with him that week. “Hey, so… don’t freak out,” Jasper began. My heart slammed against my ribs. “What happened?” “Howard broke his leg. Scooter accident. Freak thing. I was right there. Saw the whole thing.” Howard is ten. Brave, stubborn, still small enough that I tuck his hair behind his ear when he’s tired. “Is he okay?” “He’s fine. Just shaken. We’re at the ER.” I don’t remember the drive. Just red lights I barely saw and the way my hands shook on...
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