She couldn't answer.
Finally, she whispered:
"Your father promised me there were no more secrets."
My heart sank.
"What secrets?"
But my mother had already started sobbing.
"I need to speak to him."
The call ended.
I stared at my phone.
For the first time in my life, my mother's silence frightened me.
***
Nigel returned to the hospital that afternoon.
I heard his familiar footsteps before he entered.
For twenty years, I had learned to recognize people by the smallest sounds.
The rhythm of a walk.
The way someone breathed.
The particular pause before a person spoke.
Nigel's footsteps had always meant safety.
Now they made my stomach tighten.
He stopped near the doorway.
"Sarah?"
I looked at him.
It was still strange to see his face.
For years, I had known him through touch.
I knew the shape of his jaw, the softness of his hair, and the scar above his eyebrow.
