Chapter 8
Elena read my face before I spoke.
“I’m proud of you,” she said.
I started crying. She put her arms around me, and I let myself hold on.
For a moment, I was eight again. Then I felt the years between us, everything we had missed. I cried for that too.
The review of her case moved forward. Ms. Price called with updates when she had them and refused to guess at an outcome when she didn’t.
I had never realized how exhausting hope could be.
One Thursday, Dad came to the library. He waited outside until my shift ended. I saw him through the window and nearly went out the back door.
Then I remembered what I had asked of him: stop making me manage his feelings. I could tell him exactly what I wanted.
“I can speak for five minutes,” I said when I reached him.
He nodded. “I gave my statement.”
“I heard.”
“I also wrote down every time Mom asked me to turn Elena away. I gave that to the investigator.”
“Good.”
He held out a small photograph. It showed me at five, sitting between him and Elena on a blanket. We were laughing at something outside the frame.
“I found this in my desk. It belongs to you.”
I took it.
“Why bring it yourself?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“Dad.”
“I know. I should have asked.”
He stepped back. Before he left, he told me he had started meeting with a counselor. He did not ask me to praise him for it.
That evening, I showed Elena the photograph. She remembered the day. We had gone to a lake, and I had refused to get out of the water until Dad promised ice cream.
“I made him carry you all the way to the car,” she said.
“You looked happy.”
“I was.”
It mattered to know that part had been real.
Ruth invited us to dinner the following week. Sophie came too. Her father was furious she had turned over the records, and she had moved out of his house. I expected the evening to be strained.
Instead, Sophie and Elena spent half an hour discussing terrible store coffee. Ruth burned the bread. I laughed so hard I had to sit down.
Afterward, Sophie and I washed dishes.
“Do you still speak to your father?” I asked.
“Through my brother sometimes. I’m waiting to see whether he takes responsibility.”
“I’m doing the same.”
She handed me a plate. “It’s hard when they raised you.”
“Yes.”
“You’re allowed to remember the good days.”
I looked into the dining room. Elena was helping Ruth clear the table.
“I’m trying.”
Two days later, Ms. Price called. The office reviewing Elena’s conviction had filed a request for a hearing based on the new evidence. There would be more waiting, but the papers Evelyn and Sophie had kept were finally being examined.
Elena sat beside me while I wrote the date on my calendar.
For the first time, I asked what she wanted if her name was cleared.
“I want to stand outside that courthouse with no one calling me a thief,” she said. “Then I want lunch.”
“What kind?”
“Anything I don’t have to eat while worrying about a hearing.”
I smiled. “I’ll buy it.”
The night before the hearing, Dad called Elena. She put the phone on speaker after asking if I wanted to hear.
“I owe you an apology,” he said. “I’ll say what I did when I’m asked tomorrow. I should have done it years ago.”
Elena held the phone in both hands.
“Yes,” she said. “You should have.”
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“I know.”
After the call, she stared at the dark screen.
“I used to wait for him to say I was right,” she told me. “Now I’m thinking about what comes after tomorrow.”
I reached for her hand.
At the courthouse the next morning, Dad was already there. He looked at Elena, then moved aside so she could pass without speaking to him.
Inside, Martin sat several rows away. Sophie saw him and gripped the strap of her bag. Ruth sat beside her.
I stayed close to Elena.
When her name was called, she rose. I rose with her.
She stopped for a moment and turned to me.
“Whatever happens in there,” she whispered, “you found me.”
May you like
I squeezed her hand.
“And you kept looking.”
