"He had a mark," Anthony says, lifting his hand to gently put it to the skin behind Emory's ear. "Right here." He rubs his thumb to the spot, fingers light in the nape of his neck. "Like you do. And a dimple, when he laughed, just one, right—" He lowers his hand over Emory's jaw, fingers soft as they stop at the side of his chin, below his mouth. "—Here. And a scar, from when he climbed a tree as a child, right . . . " His hand drops from Emory's face and comes to rest high on his thigh, fingers softly inching up and down the seam as he adds a whispered, "Here."
Accidental Memory in the Case of Death by derryere












