Kyle wrapped both hands around his mug without drinking.
“The police found her four days ago,” he began. “She’d wandered into a grocery store parking lot. She couldn’t remember her address.”
“They found your number?”
“They found something in her purse with an old disconnected number. The police traced it back to me.”
“Why yours?”
“I don’t know.”
“You never met her since she left.
“I hadn’t.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“When they asked if I knew Gladys, I almost hung up.”
“But they confirmed your identity.”
He nodded.
“They asked if I could come.”
“And?”
“I did.”
He looked toward the hallway.
“She looked at me and said, ‘Kyle?'”
His voice cracked.
“Then she hugged me.”
I reached across the table and squeezed his hand.
“You should have called me.”
“I know.”
“I would have come home.”
