And he told me how she had chosen my name.
“She wanted to call you Claire because she said it sounded like someone who would bring light into a dark room.”
I looked down at my hands.
“Did she ever see me?”
“Yes.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“Before she died, she asked the nurse to write down the exact time you were born. She held you for a few minutes. She kissed your forehead and told us she was happy because you were alive.”
His voice broke.
“Those were the last words she said about you.”
I cried silently.
For the next several weeks, I struggled to understand what the truth meant for my life.
I still loved Evelyn.
I still remembered Thomas teaching me to ride a bicycle, repairing my broken toys, and standing in the rain outside my university graduation.
