“Can you come outside?”
She appeared about a minute later but stopped several feet away from me.
“I remembered something.”
Claire waited.
“I told Nora to finish the book herself.” I rubbed the edge of the photograph with my thumb. “Was that the last time I saw her?”
Claire slowly shook her head.
“I don’t know exactly what your last conversation was.”
Strangely, that answer helped more than false certainty would have.
“But she talked about you afterward,” Claire added.
“What did she say?”
“Mostly that you were annoying.”
I laughed.
Then Claire smiled.
“She also said you always waited when she fell behind reading.”
I looked down at the photograph.
For years, Nora had existed somewhere inside my mind as a missing piece I’d stopped noticing was missing.
Now she was slowly becoming a person again.
Yellow glasses.
Cheating at games.
Skipping pages.
Getting angry with me.
I looked back at Claire.
“I believe you love me. But I don’t know what I trust yet.”
She stayed where she was.
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t. Neither do I.”
Claire nodded.
“What do you want me to do?”
The question surprised me.
“Tonight? Tell me about Nora.”
