“Marjorie’s my housemate now. We’re actually a really good match. I can see why you were proud of her. She’s got a lot of amazing talents. She made me this dress. Can you believe that?” I talk to Mrs. Morris for a while—probably more that night than I ever did in real life. We were used to comfortable silence. But there are a few things I want her to know. Things I want to say out loud.

“School is a lot better. Either my teachers are getting nicer or else I’m getting used to them. And Tebow—well, you always said he was a nice boy. He is. But I still miss you. I love you, Mom. I hope you don’t mind it if I call you that. But that’s who you were to me. Who you are. And who you’ll always be.”