All that time, she had been hiding his belongings—and the truth.
“Love doesn’t give you permission to take what isn’t yours,” I said.
“I was trying to help.”
“No. You were deciding what I could handle. You were deciding what I was allowed to know.”
She looked toward the door.
The dog stood outside the screen, silent and watchful.
“Who is that dog?” she whispered.
“I don’t know.”
“But he led you here?”
“He brought me Ethan’s rabbit.”
Marlene’s expression changed.
For the first time, fear appeared beneath her tears.
I picked up the key.
“Ruth kept her promise,” I said. “A woman who barely knew Ethan protected his message for years. You were his aunt. You were the person I trusted most.”
“I was there for him.”
“So was Ruth. The difference is that she didn’t use his trust for herself.”
Marlene reached toward me.
