On top was the letter Rebecca had written him during the winter illness.

Below it were drawings from the children and the receipt for the final restitution payment.

“Why keep that?” I asked, pointing to the receipt.

“Because it’s part of the story,” he said.

“I don’t want them growing up thinking I did the right thing every time.

I want them to know I did wrong, and then people helped me put it right.”

He asked me to place the papers in a folder for Rebecca.