I stared at the device.
Then Dad said something unexpected.
"Nigel didn't know I was helping him at first."
I looked up.
"What?"
"I followed developments in experimental vision restoration. When I learned a surgeon named Nigel Vale was working on a method that might help patients with injuries like yours, I began sending information through professional channels."
I frowned.
"Did you know who he was?"
"Eventually."
"And you continued helping him?"
Dad nodded.
"He told me privately what he'd done at the playground. He was ashamed."
I felt anger rise.
"So you both knew the truth while I knew nothing."
Dad lowered his head.
"Yes."
I looked away.
It seemed impossible that the two men connected to the worst day of my childhood had spent years working toward the same goal.
But neither had trusted me with the truth.
Dad stood.
"Mara, I don't expect you to forgive me today."
