It did.

Whatever else I do with the truth in that envelope, I will carry that: that a dying man reached past everyone he loved to place his faith in me, sight almost unseen, on the strength of who my father was and who he hoped I might be.

I intend to have been worth it.

That, too, is a debt now — the quiet, unpayable kind that a dead man leaves you, and that you honor not by settling it but by becoming the person he gambled you might be.

Chapter 17 — The Family That Forgot