At nine, Margaret and Robert came over.
We drove to the cemetery.
Margaret brought three small bouquets.
Robert brought a toy ankylosaurus.
I brought nothing.
For months, I had felt guilty whenever I visited without flowers.
Then a grief counselor said:
“They don’t grade your visits.”
I loved her for that.
We stood quietly.
Margaret touched Ethan’s name.
“I still reach for my phone to call him.”
“Me too.”
Robert placed the dinosaur near Noah’s marker.
“He would tell me this is scientifically inaccurate.”
“He absolutely would.”
We laughed.
Then we cried.
My parents did not call that morning.
At 3:17 p.m., Mom sent:
Thinking of you today.
I stared at the message.
Then put my phone away.
PART 15 — WHAT MELISSA DID NEXT
Melissa began therapy.
I knew because she told me once, then never used it as evidence that I
owed her reconciliation.
That mattered.
She also stopped allowing our parents to speak for her.
When Mom told relatives that Melissa’s birthday had been “ruined
forever” by my resentment, Melissa corrected her.
“My birthday wasn’t ruined by Claire. Her family died.”
When Dad claimed I was withholding money because Ethan’s parents had
poisoned me against them, Melissa said:
