I traced the loops of his name with my fingertip, Harrison, the name I had not known, until an hour ago, was also, in the truest sense, my own.

And for the first time since he had closed his eyes, I felt something vast and warm settle over my heart: a deep, unshakeable, unexpected peace.

I had spent an hour, and in some sense a lifetime, moving through grief and fury and disbelief.

And I had come out the other side into something I had not known was waiting for me: not forgiveness earned, exactly, but forgiveness given, which is a different and freer thing, because it belongs entirely to the one who gives it.

Chapter 20 — The Game Is Over