Chapter 16 - THE MEMORY
That night, I barely slept.
Memory came in fragments.
A hallway.
Rain.
A man's voice.
A car engine.
My brother shouting.
My father running outside.
Then silence.
I sat in the dark until sunrise.
Clara found me there.
“You remembered?”
“Yes.”
She sat beside me.
“What happened?”
“I don't know.”
“Then don't force it.”
I looked at her.
“I've spent my whole life believing my father was protecting me.”
“Maybe he was.”
“By hiding the truth.”
“Maybe he thought you were too young.”
I looked toward the window.
“I was five.”
She took my hand.
“You don't have to solve everything tonight.”
I nodded.
Then Emma wandered into the room.
She was half asleep.
“Mr. Vincent?”
“Yes?”
“Why are you awake?”
“Thinking.”
She climbed onto the sofa.
“Thinking makes people sad.”
I smiled.
“Sometimes.”
She rested her head against my arm.
“Then stop thinking for a little.”
Clara smiled.
I looked at the two of them.
Maybe Emma was right.
May you like
Not every wound healed because you understood exactly how it happened.
Sometimes it healed because someone stayed beside you while you carried it.
