ADVERTISEMENT
at the base and lit a small candle.
“Mom,” I whispered. “I came back.”
The flame bent in the wind but didn’t go out.
My father stood beside me, one hand resting on his cane.
“Eleanor,” he said after a while. “Did you ever blame me?”
I looked at him. “For what?”
“For knowing enough to worry. For not stopping you harder. For letting you learn all of this through continue reading …
ADVERTISEMENT