My mother had walked away from a man she was sure was broke, never once dreaming what he was actually sitting on.

But there was no triumph in Walt’s face, no satisfaction in the irony of it.

He only looked broken by it.

“The money was never the test, Dahlia,” he said.

“The test was whether anyone would bring me a glass of water when they thought I couldn’t pay them for it.” His fingers tightened on mine.

“You were the only one who came back.”

I have turned that sentence over more times than I can count, and it has changed shape on me as I’ve gotten older.