She was crying in the pantry.

Third shelf, behind the Chicken Noodle Soup. His favorite Still sealed. The date read October 2022.

He said he’d be home by winter.

She presses her forehead to the cool can, shoulders shaking. 

Small footsteps echo in the kitchen above.

“Mom?”

She wipes her eyes. Her face. Smiles into the silence.

“Just grabbing something for dinner.”

She leaves the can where it is. Doesn’t need the soup tonight.

Just proof he existed.