During all of our nightly conversations, it had never occurred to me that I might actually speak to Billy one day. I had loved Billy the way I loved Hawaii or Paris, two places we talked about visiting at night, but knew we’d never see because Dad claimed he was too tall to fit in an airplane for that long. So we put up posters of Paris in our room and talked about the kind of croissants we would eat at the base of the Eiffel Tower and that felt like enough.
