But uncertainty was no excuse to rewrite our past.

I left the papers where they were.

PART 8: The Conference on a Thursday

Seven years after Warren and I had separated, June was six and not far from turning seven.

She was the kind of child who had to know why the sky changed color at sunset and whether worms got lonely underground.

I had agreed to speak at a Chicago conference on childhood health access.

The organizers provided a room at a hotel near the lake, and Nora came along so June could spend the afternoon at a nearby science museum while I was onstage.