He’s all cleaned up for Linda’s funeral. Even the facial hair he’d been sporting when he picked me up at the airport isn’t as grown out as it was. There’s still a hint of it, but it’s trimmed and neater than it was a few days ago. The biggest physical difference about the Cade I grew up with and the Cade standing in front of me is his hair. It used to be overgrown and shaggy. Now it’s buzzed on the sides and only slightly longer at the top. I fight the urge to run my fingers through the dark tendrils. I wonder if they’re long enough for me to hold on to or if my fingers would just slip through
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