Excerpt from What Comes After by JoAnne Tompkins, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Strange how I remember nothing of what was said that day, can recall none of the tributes paid to my son. But that moment stays with me. The connection and withdrawal. Love and loss, kindness and betrayal, Daniel present yet unseen, as if all I needed to know were contained in those few small motions.

Afterward, as Friends set up the potluck, I succumbed to an urge to flee, snuck out the back door and hid among the recycle bins, waiting for the parking lot to clear so I could cross it and walk home. I heard the back door open behind me. Jonah's mother, Lorrie, was attempting a similar escape.

I'd seen Lorrie earlier, sitting at the back of the meeting room, but my mind had refused to acknowledge her. She'd attended the Mass and the student gathering as well, but we had not spoken at either. Despite being next-door neighbors, we hadn't so much as waved since learning of our sons' deaths. I had forgiven Jonah. I had forgiven Lorrie. What more did God want of me? Why did God keep putting her before me again and again?

Now, in the damp, gray drizzle, she appeared hardly more than a child, her fierce, small frame lost in a black dress. She turned and saw me.

"Isaac!" An indictment, as if I'd planned this as a trap.

"It was good of you to come," I said, aware of the chill in my tone.

Her expression flickered with fear, but she forced her features into a semblance of calm and lowered her gaze, a submissive posture I'd seen her use when her husband, Roy, was still alive. It pained me to have her use it on me.

Excerpted from What Comes After by JoAnne Tompkins. Copyright © 2021 by JoAnne Tompkins. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.