“I will see what he chose to hide from me.”
“Then he finally told the truth about something.”
She walked past me toward the hallway, dragging the backpack behind her.
The strap scraped along the wooden floor.
It was a sound I would remember for years afterward.
I followed her to the top of the stairs.
And that’s where she broke.
It was a sound I would remember for years afterward.
Grace sank to the floor.
She folded into herself, sobbing into her sleeves.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I’m so sorry I ruined him for you.”
I stopped.
“He was already ruined, Grace. He did this. Not you.”
“He said you’d hate me. He said he’d carry it, and I wouldn’t have to be the secret anymore.”
“I’m so sorry I ruined him for you.”
Something inside me cracked wide open.
She was sixteen.
She had lost a mother and a father she never got to claim.
And now, she’d also lost a brother who bought her a home with borrowed courage.
“Move over,” I said quietly.
Grace looked up, her eyes swollen and terrified.
Something inside me cracked wide open.
“What?”
“Move over. On the step.”
I sat down beside her.
For a long moment neither of us spoke.
The house held its breath around us, the way it had held David’s for weeks.
“He was a coward,” I whispered. “But he loved you. He loved us both, in the wrong order.”
I sat down beside her.
Grace nodded, wiping her face with the back of her wrist.
“I don’t want to replace anyone.”
“You couldn’t if you tried.”
I pulled her against my shoulder.
We cried for the same man from two different sides of his lie.
When my daughter came out into the hallway and asked if Grace was staying, I answered without hesitating.
“I don’t want to replace anyone.”
“She’s staying. She’s family.”
