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“All of it.”
“You don’t think I was stupid?”
Michael’s voice broke.
“I think you were just 16.”
That was when she really fell apart.
We talked for hours.
Not enough to cover eight years. Not even close. But we started.
We asked her to come home.
She shook her head.
At first, that hurt.
Then she explained.
She had an apartment, a job, friends, a therapist, and savings.
She was planning to take community college classes the following year.
She had spent years learning how to make decisions for herself after Caleb had controlled every part of her life.
Going straight back into her childhood bedroom felt wrong.
“I want you in my life,” she said. “I just don’t know how yet.”
I took her hand. “We don’t know either.”
She looked frightened.
I squeezed harder. “But we’ll figure it out.”
We stayed in town three extra days.
Nora had breakfast with us the next morning. Then dinner.
Then she walked with us along the boardwalk.
She didn’t go onto the sand.
Neither did I.
Before we left, Elaine gave Nora the cover-up back.
Nora stared at it for a long time.
Then she handed it to me. “You keep it.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I don’t want it for now, but it should stay in the family.”
I folded it carefully.
The yellow sun was faded.
Still crooked. Still there.
It’s been six months now.
Nora calls twice a week.
Sometimes more.
Michael visits once a month.
I probably text too often, but she hasn’t complained yet.
She enrolled in two classes.
She still works at the cafe.
She still sees Elaine.
And she still has difficult days.