“He’s dead.”
“Yes.”
“I’m alive.”
Wade shut his eyes.
“So choose.”
His eyes opened.
For a moment we simply looked at each other, and something shifted between us. Wade had arrived as Randall’s messenger. He had expected to deliver the box, hold me upright, guide me through whatever sequence Randall had prepared.
But Randall was not here.
I was.
Wade lowered his head. “You’re right.”
The words gave me no victory.
He gestured toward the box. “Look under the letter.”
I almost refused because he had asked.
Then I saw the corner of something blue beneath the pages.
I pulled the contents out one by one.
The first object was so small that my brain did not understand it immediately.
A ring.
Plain gold, broad at the center, scratched along one edge where Randall had caught it years ago while repairing the deck. I had teased him that a man who refused to remove his wedding ring while using power tools was either devoted or stupid.
