“Was I?”
Daniel flinched.
It was not an accusation. Silas had asked it with honest curiosity, and that made the question more difficult.
“I tried to keep you safe,” Daniel said.
“That’s not what I asked.”
I watched Daniel struggle for an answer that would neither blame Elena nor excuse the silence surrounding her.
“Some things were safer,” he finally said. “Some things were lonelier.”
Silas looked at the letters.
“Did she write to me?”
“I don’t know.”
“You knew her name was on them.”
“I recognized her handwriting.”
“Did you tell me she was dead?”
Daniel rubbed his hands over his face.
“I told you she was gone. When you asked if she was dead, I should have answered clearly. I didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I was afraid.”
Silas frowned.
“Adults aren’t supposed to be afraid of words.”
“No,” Daniel said softly. “But we are.”
A car door closed outside.
