He did not have to become part of our lives once the legal business was done.

He chose to.

He had lost his sister, and he was not going to lose her daughters too.

“Your mother would be immensely proud of you, Evelyn,” he said softly, and his voice was thick.

“She always knew you had her strength.” I reached over and squeezed his hand.

“She gave us the strength, Uncle Arthur,” I said.

“And you gave us the door to walk through.” Six months earlier, I had stood in a dim restaurant kitchen staring at an empty payment tray, feeling as invisible and helpless and alone as a person can feel.

There is one more thing I want to say about my sister, watching her disappear into that crowd of students that afternoon, because she is the reason for all of it and the person I am proudest of.