“Why hide all of this from me?”
“Because he never wanted you carrying the idea that you were the reason he stayed alive, sweetheart.” Her eyes were wet now too. “He knew exactly what it felt like to be a child holding up an adult’s grief. He refused to let you carry his.”
I thought of every time he’d told me, “You gave me a reason to keep going,” and how I’d always taken it as something parents just say. Now I understood how literally he’d meant it.
“He let me believe he was the one who rescued me.”
Caroline squeezed my hand across the table.
“He did rescue you.” Then, through her tears, she managed something close to a smile. “But you rescued him first.”
PART FOUR — What He Carried
I drove back to the hospital with the photograph resting on the passenger seat. Every red light felt like it was mocking me.
