My son started spending all his free time with a 50-year-old co-worker; when I was invited to dinner, the man said, “It’s time you knew what I really want from your son.”

"You have to go," Tyler said.

Richard nodded.

He left with the box held in his hands.

I closed the door behind him.

And I threw the key.

For several seconds, Tyler and I stood there.

Then he passed his arm by my shoulders.

"Are you okay, Mom?"

I looked at my son.

And I felt that something inside me, at last, was calming.

Richard had recovered the reliquary he had been trying to recover for years.