I watched her.
"I'll save you," she had so frivolously thought sometimes. But there are always those selfish ways we forget the details of each other. And it was in those quiet subtleties that he got lost, and eventually vanished, like his brother had to the drugs and the alcohol. He left her with the silent walls. She'd often stare at the ceilings, and wonder why it was he died. And was there life after that? She'd ask me, and we'd sit out on the back porch. And I said, yes. Someday, there is. And she would nod, but she didn't believe me.