a long time before answering.
“Because sometimes people know they’ve done the unforgivable,” she said.
“And crying is easier than stopping it.”
Tyler thought about that quietly, then leaned against her side and went back to sleep.
In town, the arguments never fully ended.
People still lowered their voices when Brian’s name came up, still divided themselves into camps over whether fear could hollow a man out enough to turn him into an accomplice, or whether that was just another lie adults told to make evil look smaller.
Ellie only knew what had stood on her porch that night: a child covered in mud, shivering under the light, asking for help after climbing out of a grave because the people entrusted with his life had chosen money, denial, and themselves.
Whatever name other people wanted to give that, she never found a gentler one.
