Chapter 20
Evan’s bedroom felt like a bomb shelter to him sometimes, especially on the weekends. Even more so when his sister was home. He kept the door closed more often than not, usually with the radio on.
Same as when his mother was still alive, the volume changed depending on what was going on in the rest of the house.
The curtains and bedspread decorated with her beloved St. Louis Cardinals rather than the home state Cubs or White Sox was probably a little young for Evan. But so far he wasn’t willing to let that much of her fade into the past.
He’d carried one of the framed photos of the two of them upstairs not long after she died. Evan-at-ten grinned into the camera, his mom kissing his cheek, her own cheeks rosy and happy. If his father noticed the picture’s new home on Evan’s
