It’s familiar, being alone, the stillness usually reassuring. But over the past few weeks, he’s grown accustomed to the noise

For the first time in several weeks, Gabe is completely alone. Not that he hasn’t been alone before — Rivi’s house is empty during the day, and he’s started cleaning out Abba’s house with only Ezra’s occasional help — but always, at the end of that, there are people. Shira and Blimi, racing into the house to find him — Uncle Gabe! Uncle Gabe!  — and then whatever books and toys they want him to play with them. Shimmy with his wrinkled little nose, ready to launch into a complaint about something his teacher had done that day. Meir ignoring him, buried in a book, then stunned to discover that his uncle has read it. Ezra making light conversation, friendly and without expectation, and then Rivi arriving home like a hurricane, blowing from room to room with a surge of competent efficiency.

They had invited him along, of course, but Gabe has no interest in traveling to the mountains to spend more time with Rivi’s in-laws. They’d been enough of a handful during shivah, asking probing questions and marveling at how unique he is. Instead, he chose to stay behind and he promised Rivi that he’d go to Hillel for the Shabbos meals.

It’s familiar, being alone, the stillness usually reassuring. But over the past few weeks, he’s grown accustomed to the noise, and the house feels too quiet when evening comes, like the silence before a storm. Alone with his thoughts, they grow intrusive. What are you doing here? You don’t belong here. Run. Run.

He goes down to his guest room in the basement to find a book and sees the hotel notepad flipped over on the dresser. What else did Abba keep from you?