Lizabeth loses herself when she visits her son Tommy in prison. The brutal commute demands it—slogging through the snow and biting wind, taking two buses, hours of waiting once she arrives, metal detectors and pat downs. By the time she gets there, she forgets who she is. By the time she leaves, she forgets her son. Between each trek to the prison and back home is a short conversation with Tommy, who has changed so much since the arrest. He’s been thinking a lot, he says, and he’s decided she’s to blame for everything. She cared too much or not at all, suffocated him or let him run wild into the maw of the law. Lizabeth knows he’s hurting, but she can’t do anything about it. She hopes that if she can force her way through the prison doors, God can too. Maybe he’ll heal Tommy. Once upon a time, she would’ve been certain that He could mend her son’s broken heart. After one visit, Lizabeth gets off the bus before reaching her neighborhood. Tommy is starting to love her again, which is good, but he’s been in solitary for the last six weeks. She’s worried about him. She can’t stand to be in that empty house right now, so she stops off on a street she knows well and wanders down to a public park. Lizabeth remembers her mother taking her and her siblings here as children. She attempts to cross the bridge to that grassy patch, but she can’t bring herself to go any further. Lizabeth fears that she’s losing God, and she’ll be faithless if she walks across. She heads to her brother Carl’s place, and he accompanies her back to the park. Their conversation is easy. It’s nice to be with someone who knows her but doesn’t expect anything from her. Lizabeth gives her heart to God and her hand to Carl. Together, they walk across the bridge.