I know.
I left for a reason.
I read the reason, Pike said.
That made Ethan’s eyes lift.
Pike did not flinch.
Not the whole reason, he added.
Files rarely tell that.
For a moment, Ethan heard Rachel’s voice as clearly as if she stood behind him.
I don’t need you to stop being brave, Ethan.
I need you to stop spending all your bravery where Lily can’t see it.
Rachel had said that at their kitchen table.
Lily was asleep down the hall.
There had been a half-folded basket of laundry between them.
Rachel had looked exhausted, but not angry.
That had made it worse.
She had loved him too well to threaten him.
She only told the truth and let it stand there.
A year later, cancer took her fast.
Three months from diagnosis to funeral.
Ethan quit before the funeral flowers dried.
He told himself he was choosing Lily.
Most days, that was true.
Some days, it was also easier than admitting he was afraid to lose one more thing.
Daddy?
Lily’s voice came from the kitchen.
Ethan turned.
She was holding Biscuit against her chest like a shield.
Are you in trouble?
No, baby.
Is the lady from the diner in trouble?
Ethan looked at Pike.
Pike looked back with the patience of a man who understood that children often asked the real question first.
She needs help telling the truth, Ethan said.
Lily absorbed that.
Then she asked, Can grown-ups be scared to tell the truth?
Pike’s face changed.
Not much.
Enough.
Yes, he said.
They can.
Lily looked at her father.
Then you should go.
Ethan almost laughed.
It caught in his chest instead.
