Chapter 143

The first thing I see when I walk into the kitchen Monday morning is Eli at my family’s breakfast table, sittng where Zeke used to seat, and eating Maria’s rosemary bread.

The second thing I see is my eleven-year-old brother Lucas sitting directly across from him, leaning forward with both elbows on the table and the expression he gets during particularly riveting episodes of whatever documentary series he’s currently obsessed with, which apparently this morning is Elias Arden in the flesh.

“But what’s the difference between a hook and a cross?” Lucas is saying, with the intensity of someone who needs this answered before they can continue with their day.

“Setup versus power,” Eli says, and he gestures with his fork in a way that somehow communicates the mechanics of it. “Hook comes from the side, shorter range, more snap. Cross goes straight with full rotation behind it, that’s where the real damage is.”

“Which one did you use on those guys in the alley?”