Chapter 35

Dean’s POV

2005

I was five when I asked.

Sarah from down the street sat next to me at lunch most days. One day her lunchbox opened and a photo slid halfway out from under the little plastic flap where you're supposed to keep a napkin. Just a regular photo. A woman with the same brown hair as Sarah, smiling at whoever was holding the camera.

"Who's that?" I asked.

"My mom, duh." She tucked it back under the flap like it was nothing. "She puts it in there every morning so I don't miss her too much."

"Why would you miss her? You see her every day."

"I still miss her at school. Don't you miss your mom at school?"

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just said "I guess," and ate my sandwich, and didn't think about it again until later that afternoon, when I found myself replaying the photo in my head — the flap, the shape of it, the pl