Marcus wiped his face with the back of his hand.
“Because I was a coward.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Why didn’t you come find me?”
“My wife left me eight months after the accident. She said I’d become a ghost. And she was right. Every time I picked up my phone to call you, I heard the same thing in my head. ‘This man’s wife is dead because she chose to save you. He’s going to open the door and hate you.’ And I couldn’t do it.”
“So you hovered,” I said. “You watched us for four months?”
“I told myself every Saturday I’d walk over. And every Saturday, I took her things from my locker and drove home.”
“She said I’d become a ghost.”
“You’re telling me my son had to be the one to spot her bracelet through a crack in a door before you spoke up?”
