Anger rose in me, hot and wounded, but grief came faster.
"You let me mourn you," I whispered.
"I know," she cried. "There is no excuse that makes it kind. I was scared. Then I was ashamed. Then time became a wall I did not know how to climb."
I looked toward the porch, where Evan's shadow moved past the window.
"He's my son."
"Yes."
The word changed the shape of my life.
"Does he know that?"
"He knows enough. Not everything."
I wiped my face with the heel of my hand. "And now you're sick."
Nina gave a small, sad smile. "Heart failure. Some days are better than others. I was going to tell him the truth soon. I just didn't think truth would walk into his gas station wearing your face."
A broken laugh escaped me, and then the tears came harder.
Nina reached across the space between us.
