My 12-Year-Old Son Saved All Summer for a Memorial to His Friend, But a Fire Destroyed It
It was a Tuesday in April — too warm for spring, too cold for comfort. My twelve-year-old son, Caleb, came home from his best friend Louis’s funeral, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t speak. No backpack drop, no muttered “I’m starving,” no game clicks. He walked straight to his room, closing…