Chapter 4

The Thompson family lived in a sturdy brick house with white trim, the kind you see dotted across rural Midwest farms. Margaret and James had the east room. That left the drafty west room with two narrow beds for Albert and me.

Two years ago, Albert went fishing, slipped, and nearly drowned. When they pulled him out, he woke up giggling like a toddler. The doctor said the brain injury had left him with the mind of a three-year-old child.

Margaret had wept until she was nearly blind.

James ached for his parents. Late one night, he sat on the…