He gave up nothing and got us, and he’d tell you that himself.”

All around me, strangers were turning in their seats, following the line of her pointing arm until hundreds of faces had swung around to find me standing there, undone, in row twelve.

Tess took the microphone one last time, and her voice went out steady and clear to the highest row of the balcony.

“We don’t share his DNA,” she said.

“We share his late nights.

We share his sacrifices.