And relieved.
All at once.
“Why disappear again now?”
Thomas looked toward the staircase.
“The suitcase.”
Don’t miss
“Yes.”
He took a slow breath.
“Daniel called me this morning.”
I stared at him.
“He’s alive?”
“Yes. He’s 87.”
“What did he want?”
Thomas’ jaw tightened.
“He heard you were here.”
My skin prickled.
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
Thomas shook his head.
“He told me I was making a mistake.”
I almost laughed.
“After 50 years?”
“He still thinks the past belongs to him.”
I pointed at the photograph.
“Did he circle my face?”
Thomas nodded.
“He left that here years ago. I took it out after seeing you again.”
“Why keep it?”
“Because I hated it.”
That answer stopped me.
Thomas looked at me.
“And because it was the only photograph I had of us.”
My anger softened, but it did not disappear.
“Where were you today?”
“At Daniel’s.”
I stared at him.
“You went to see him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Thomas’ mouth tightened.
“To tell him he doesn’t get another 50 years.”
I sat down again.
He reached toward me but stopped before touching my hand.
“I turned my phone off because I didn’t want him calling while I drove.”
“You could have told me.”
