Chapter 78

“The day he came home alone, Lei popped a lot of pills. Went through half a bottle of Glenfiddich scotch. People say they could hear Callas all the way down to the end of the street. And there was a storm. One of those late summer storms. Rain pouring hard, slapping the pavement.” Al’s eyes gleamed. “The sidewalk.”

“Oh, God,” I whispered, my mind seeing that blue chalk run into the gutter.

“That was all that was left of his son. That blue chalk. He went insane with grief. That’s all I can say. He was in the driving rain for who knows how long, trying to dry the sidewalk with every towel he could get his hands on. Neighbors told me about it the next day. None of them had the courage to come out. They were too respectful of his pain.”

“I can’t imagine what he felt that night,” I said, a wave of nausea rising and receding inside me.