Strike Three, You're Out

wed were a blur of

r came, his face a mask of grief and guilt. Ben was the

She sent flowers. Wh

uaintance, busy helping Ace with h

cted Danny

icked out for his "treasures" – his collection o

ings, Daddy," Danny had said,

ool to the touch, heavy with th

goodbye, a p

sty Little League field where he' d played

un cast long shadows

mound, Danny' s spot. He' d

dry grass, the

ed, his voice cracking.

, about how much he loved him, how much he missed him. Tears str

rewell, a father' s las

eard voice

ooke

ra

ield, dressed impeccably,

surprisingly well, leaning on a ca

face. Tyler, Mark' s nephew, or the son of Mark's ne

hind them, snapping pictu

mile vanished, replaced

ice was sharp. "This is a private photo

livan? Life goes on, you know.

hem, the urn held tig

again. This could