Not kind.
Not comforting.
Just honest.
“I don’t either,” I said.
She looked at me then.
For a second, I thought she might pull away from me.
Instead, she reached over the top rail and took my hand.
Her palm was cold.
Mine was colder.
Copper kept his head between us.
Like he was holding the two halves of my mother’s life together.
Arthur cleared his throat.
“There’s something else you both need to hear.”
I looked at him.
My stomach dropped.
I had already learned too many impossible things in three weeks.
I didn’t have room inside me for another one.
Arthur took off his cap and rubbed one hand across his short gray hair.
“Your mother asked me to wait until Hannah saw Copper before saying this.”
Hannah’s grip tightened around my hand.
Arthur looked straight at her.
“She wanted him to be yours.”
The words hit the air hard.
Even though I already knew.
Even though I had read it in the diary.
Even though I had typed it in the email myself.
Hearing it out loud felt different.
Copper was hers.
Not mine.
Not ours.
Hers.
