“Is she okay?” I whispered.
Claire nodded.
“She’s safe.”
“Happy?”
“She’s doing better.”
“Does she ever ask about us?”
Claire hesitated.
“Sometimes.”
That hurt more than if she’d said no.
“Can I talk to her?”
“I can ask.”
For the first time, I understood why Claire protected those jars.
They weren’t just secrets.
They were promises.
And one had protected my sister when I hadn’t.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Claire nodded.
But she didn’t reach for me.
We sat quietly.
I thought I’d finally understood everything.
Then my eyes settled on one jar at the end of the row.
Unlike the others, it had a bright green lid.
And a fresh white label.
It looked newer.
Much newer.
Claire noticed me looking.
Her expression changed.
“Archie, please.”
I reached for it.
She didn’t stop me.
I opened the jar, removed the capsule, and unscrewed its lid.
A silver wedding band slipped into my palm.
