He had always folded.

That is what the waiting was.

And he did not fold.

Both of those things are true, and I hold them both, and on different days one of them is bigger than the other.

He shut the door and turned round to face me.

I kept my eyes on him and did not help him out.

Because there was still one question left in that room that his mother could not answer for him.

Part Fifty-Nine: I’m Sorry, Meg