Chapter 11

It was from that time that he had begun to distance himself—from people and the world in general. He never forgot the feeling he’d had in that moment. In his confusion and pain, he decided he hated the world. He hated everybody in it. He would never trust either again. And, although the moment of passionate rejection passed, he had never regained his trust in people or the world since then.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute that his aunt had hesitated. It felt like hours. And when she lowered the Kleenex, she had put on her reassuring smile—and nodded.

“Yes, dear,” she said. And then, lowering her head, she began to sob quietly.

This was something Garner understood. His mother had been sensitive and prone to tears. In sympathy now, he began to cry himself again. But after a few moments, he forced his tears down. Going over to his aunt, he shyly climbed onto the chair beside her—afraid she would scold him and push him away, but feeling the need for physical contact.