Don’t you ever let anyone make you feel wrong for it.

Not ever.” She nodded, slowly, and then she folded into me and I held her, and over her small shoulder I looked at the casket where my daughter lay, unpainted now, uncovered, finally telling the truth — and I thought, as clearly as I have ever thought anything: we heard you, sweetheart.

Both of us.

We heard you, and we came.

Chapter 9 — The Coroner’s Report