“He thought you were his brother.”
“I took your hay,” Dwayne said. “I took it a week after the funeral. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Karen. I don’t know why I did it. I stood in your kitchen and told you it came out even, and I knew it was a lie, and I said it anyway. I could see your face, and I said it anyway.”I know.”
“Why didn’t you scream at me?”
“I was too tired to start.”
He laughed, a broken, wet sound, and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me.”
“I’m not offering that. Not yet. Maybe not for a long time.” I stood. “But I’m offering something. Tom asked me to give you a way back, and I’m going to. There’s a condition.”
He looked up.
