Chapter 19
Vanessa died in prison when Noah was seventeen.
The call came through Nora.
I told Noah with Dr. Lane available, just in case.
He listened quietly.
Then he asked, “Do I have to feel sad?”
“No.”
“Do I have to feel happy?”
“No.”
He looked at Mommy Bear in the glass case across the fund office.
“I feel finished.”
That was the word.
Finished.
We did not celebrate her death.
We went to Laura’s grave.
Noah placed flowers.
Then he placed a small printed still from his film.
The muddy paw.
“Mom,” he whispered, “I kept it.”
Margaret cried softly.
Thomas put an arm around her.
I stood behind Noah and felt the years move through me.
The cage.
The USB.
The courtroom.
The new house.
The fund.
The film.
The boy who once reached through iron bars had become a young man who knew his own voice.
On the drive home, Noah said, “I don’t want Vanessa to be the biggest part of my story.”
“She isn’t.”
“What is?”
I glanced at him.
“Love that stayed.”
He looked out the window.
May you like
Then nodded.
“Yeah. That part.”
