I stared at the screen until the words blurred.
Noah stirred beside me, his little face turning toward the sound of my breath.
In the hallway, Richard’s footsteps approached.
I locked the phone without thinking.
He appeared in the doorway, holding a glass of water.
“You should try to sleep,” he said.
I looked at the man who had crossed a storm at two in the morning, the man named in a trust I had never seen, the man standing beside my mother in a photograph marked with a message from the past.
Tell Claire the truth.
“Uncle Richard,” I said slowly, “what happened the day my mother tried to leave?”
The glass in his hand went perfectly still.
