He continued.
“People can misunderstand your intentions. That happens. But if you made a mistake, you have to admit it before you can learn from it.”
I stared at the sandwich in my hands.
“Do you think I did something terrible?”
Dad took a breath.
“I think you wanted to help a girl who was dying. I also think you made a decision without considering everything it could mean.”
He paused.
“Those two things can be true at the same time.”
I had spent days trying to persuade everyone that I was either a good person who had done nothing wrong or a decent person being unfairly accused.
My father offered me something harder.
The possibility that I could have good intentions and still be responsible for a bad decision.
For once, I stopped arguing.
The Meeting with Nora
A week after the funeral, I called Nora and asked if she would meet me.
