THE GOODBYE HE MISSED
January brought Noah's eighth birthday, and with it, both kinds of pancakes once more, coffee made exactly right, and Noah's now-annual review of his ongoing record over breakfast — the year's entries laid out before him, considering carefully what belonged in the final accounting before the new year's page began.
"The Ethan Kane Access Initiative," he said, reading through his list. "The prize. Cannon Beach. The gala. Great-grandpa Victor."
He wrote each one in carefully, his pencil moving with the same deliberate pressure he brought to everything he recorded permanently.
He closed the record.
"It was a good year," he said.
"Yes," Sophia said.
"The next one will be too," Noah said, with the